


Out of My Hands

by BleakDecembersDyingEmber



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Foster Care, Memory Alteration, POV Female Character, Reader-Insert, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 11:20:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20834615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleakDecembersDyingEmber/pseuds/BleakDecembersDyingEmber
Summary: The reader, having grown up in foster care after her hunter father left, has found a home with the boys and starts to hunt alongside them. But after finding out that she is pregnant, she makes a decision that everyone might regret.





	Out of My Hands

Part 1  
Awful things happen to everyone. Everybody loses someone they love, has their heart broken, feels small, gets neglected, abused, or worse, forgotten. In the long run, what does it matter? We all end up at the same place, just in a different line.   
My father was a hunter. Not like a “Let’s go climb a tree, sit in a box, and wait until we can shoot Bambi” kind of hunter. No. The kind of hunter that saves people from the dark underbelly of the world that nobody seems to realize exists. The ghosts, monsters and beasties that we tell stories about without realizing that they could be right around the corner.  
I grew up in musty motel room after musty motel room until I was 7. My dad would stay just long enough to make sure that I was settled. That I still remembered how to open the mini bar without breaking the seal and that I had the closest pizza joint’s number along with whatever cash he had to spare. Then he was gone. Sometimes for a couple of days, others for a couple of weeks.  
One night, after a string of nights spent alone, a man came to the door of the Cheshire Cat motel that I was in somewhere in Northern Illinois. He said he was there to take me to my new home. He told me that my dad wasn’t coming back and that no one could find my mom. The later was no surprise, she’d left just weeks after having me.  
By the time I was eight, I had been in four different foster homes. A ward of the state they called me. Not a great nickname for a chubby white girl with no real home or family.   
The new home that I was promised never came about. I went into foster care but was never a good fit. Families wanted little girls that would sing and throw tea parties. Not ones that taught their real kids about the birds and the bees and the very real monsters under their beds.  
At 18, my chances were up. 24 failed foster placements, and almost as many run ins with law enforcement and I was on my own. But I never had the compulsion to go truth seeking. My mom was never some mystery woman I longed to meet and my dad being gone was no great loss. I knew how to survive and how to protect myself. He had taught me enough to get me by.  
On his longer trips, Dad would leave me with some friends of his. They had a daughter about my age named Jo. Jo’s dad was a hunter like my dad though they never really seemed to get along. During those trips, I’d make myself useful. Cleaning and cooking what I knew how to and they gave me a place to sleep as well as Jo’s hand-me-down school books. I soaked up all the knowledge that I could. Supernatural and otherwise. Jo was only a year older than me and we became my only friend.   
Once I was in the foster system, I went to school and got a “formal” education. I skipped two grades right away and graduated with honors. School was never hard for me. Convincing other students that I was normal? Figuring out that not everyone knew that vampires, werewolves and ghosts were real? Those were my challenges. Not many kids my age were clamoring to get to know me. In those days, I missed Jo. She knew everything that I did and then some.  
Just after getting out of the system, I received a check from a life insurance policy my father had had. Not a huge windfall, but enough to help me buy my car, get a gun, and move around. I moved to Julesburg. A small town in Colorado with only about a thousand people right off 138. In my mind, the smaller the town, the better. I stayed for a couple of years. But the former “sin city,” full of such history and small-town charm had me feeling trapped. Once people started noticing me, remembering my name and generally gossiping about my general comings and goings, I got antsy. I had never had roots before. It was time to leave. I had lived a life of bouncing from place to place and I knew how to just keep going. So, I did.  
I headed for Jo’s mom’s place. Harvelle’s Roadhouse, just outside of Merna, Nebraska. It was a long shot that she would even remember me. But where else did I have to go? I’d never been anywhere that actually felt like home. Harvelle’s was all I had.  
When I finally got there, it was gone. No roadhouse. No Jo. No Mrs. Harvelle. Nothing but a makeshift plaque commemorating what, and apparently who, used to reside there. It didn’t come out and say it. There wasn’t some fancy epitaph. But I knew, one way or another, Jo was gone.   
All at once, I was full of rage and sorrow. Dropping to my knees in front of my old 1966 Ford Mustang, I let myself break momentarily. Allowing myself 15 seconds to freak out. I threw the dust-like dirt beneath me, beating the ground with my bare fists, screaming and pleading with the heavens to let this all be a dream. To let me, just once, have somewhere that I fit. Where I belonged.  
I closed my eyes and started telling myself to calm down. I’d come through much worse than this and was still here. I could get through this too. I had to.  
As I began to stand up and brush myself off, I heard a noise behind me, like wind. I reached for the Kimber Super Carry Pro that I always tucked away inside my green leather crop jacket and drew on whatever I was about to face.  
“You won’t be needing that,” the woman staring at me said, matter of factly.  
“I think I can be the judge of that. Who are you? Why are you here and how did you sneak up on me?”  
“Let me explain,” she said “If you’ll just put the gun down.”  
Her voice was melodic. Her brown hair hung just above her shoulders and she wore a grey business suit. Very clearly not a hunter.   
“Y/N, my name is-”  
“How the hell do you know me? Everyone I ever knew is dead apparently. Who the hell are you?” I yelled, taking a much more pointed and aggressive stance.  
“My name in Hannah. I’m an angel of the Lord.”  
I paused. “I’m sorry, what now? I could’ve sworn I heard you say some whackadoodle stuff right there. A what of the who now?”  
“I’m an angel of the lord. And I’m here to help you. Although, I’m not familiar with this Whackadoodle you speak of. Is that some language that I’ve not heard of?” Hannah said, looking at me, confusion plastered on her face.  
“Not important. Okay, Salma Hayek, what do you got? How are you going to help me?” I asked her, relaxing as I resheathed my Kimber.  
“My name is not Salma Hayek. I’m not sure-”  
I cut her off. “No, she’s an actress. Plays an angel in Dogma. Well technically a muse. So not the point.” I babbled.  
“In answer to your questions, I know where the Harvelle’s are. They’re in heaven. They have been for quite some time. I cannot tell you that you are dreaming because you are not and I am not prone to lying. If you still want a home, there are places you can go where you may find one.”  
I looked at her, dumbfounded.  
“So what, you’re my personal stalkery fairy God-Angel? You couldn’t have helped me out, oh I don’t know, about twenty years ago?!”  
“That isn’t how this works, Y/N. I heard you today because you were addressing us. The angels. The heavens. Something you haven’t ever done before. And I’m helping you now because I can. Because you asked it of me. You can still make yourself a home. There are still plans for you.” She seemed exasperated.   
“What, like God’s plans? Let me tell you, so far, his plans for me could do with some editing and a few rewrites.”   
“God’s plans have been moot for years. He left Heaven long ago.” she stated as if this was something I should’ve known.  
“Wow. That makes so much sense,” I laughed. “Okay, you said something about a home for me. What, like my parents? Other hunters? Where” I asked, hopping onto the hood of the Mustang.   
“Your father, while alive, is still hunting. He’s in Florida chasing a Khan Worm which he still thinks is a ghoul. I cannot tell you where your mother is because I simply do not know. But yes, there are other hunters who can offer you solace. Should you choose it.”  
“Wait, you’re saying my father is still alive? That he really did just abandon me all those years ago? Awesome. This day keeps getting better and better. But what happened here? How did Jo and her mom die?” I asked, not sure I actually wanted to know the answer.  
“Hell hounds, initially. On Lucifer’s orders. The hounds attacked and they sacrificed themselves to save the rest,” she explained, ever so nonchalantly, as if the fact that angels and Lucifer were real was common knowledge.  
“The rest?”  
“The hunters that were there. Helping them in the war against Lucifer. They won, in the end.”  
“Okay. Well where can I find these hunters then?” I inquired, jumping off the Mustang and taking my car keys from my pocket.  
“The Winchester’s? I’ll show you.”  
Hannah reached out to me, grabbing my arm. The wind kicked up and I closed my eyes, my stomach feeling like it was diving for my spine.  
“Woah.” I said, opening my eyes. The old roadhouse was gone, and we were inside what looked like a library. There were cold coffee mugs on the table along with a few old books that looked almost ancient.  
“This is how hunters live now? Geez, Child Services should have let me be. I would’ve grown up just fine.”  
“The Winchester’s are gone right now. They left about an hour ago but will be back momentarily. Good luck” and with a pop, Hannah was gone.  
“What the – MY CAR, HANNAH! Damnit!”  
I went to the kitchen and began scrounging for something to eat. I found sandwich fixings and set to giving myself a tour of my new surroundings. Halls and halls of bedrooms. One with gun mounted on the walls. Another with a laptop on the bed and more books scattered around it. And more than handful of barren rooms.   
I made my way back to the library, sat at the table with my cold cut and a glass of water and began reading the books strewn out in front of me. Wendigos, ghouls, everything my dad ever told me about and then some. I was fascinated. Until I heard bags drop in the hallway.  
“What the hell?!” he yelled in a deep gravelly voice.  
I looked up from my book and at the man who was obviously surprised to see me. His green eyes bore into mine and he didn’t take a step before reaching for his weapon. I drew mine at the same time with a mouth of of Turkey on Rye.  
“Dude, your security system sucks.”  
Part 2  
Within moments, a taller man with much longer hair came into the room, gun drawn.  
“DEAN?” he yelled as his eyes and his aim set on me. “What the hell?”  
“Yeah, that’s what I said” the first man replied taking a few steps in my direction.  
I put my hands up as a surrender and let my Kimber twist down in my hand until I no longer had my finger on the trigger. I stood up slowly as I set it down on the table between myself and the boys.  
“Woah, okay, look. No more weapon. I swear. Not a threat. Don’t shoot me. Pretty please.” I moved to walk around the table, my hands still up in the air.   
“Yeah, we’ll see about that. Sam, tie her up.” the shorter Winchester, Dean apparently, said.  
“Wait, seriously?” I said, my voice reaching a pitch I hadn’t heard in quite a while.  
Sam, the taller, more attractive of the two, walked towards me, cuffs in hand, while Dean stood with me still in his crosshairs.   
“Sorry about this. Precautions,” Sam said as he cuffed my hands behind my back and began tying me to the chair I had recently vacated. He put a flask up to my mouth. “Drink.”  
“Like hell I will.”  
“Relax,” Sam said, attempting to calm me. “It’s just holy water. Shouldn’t be a problem, should it?” He cocked his eyebrow at me as I rolled my eyes as dramatically as possible and opened my lips. He put the flask up to my mouth and I drank.   
“Not a demon then. Try the silver.” Dean shouted.  
“Hey, I’m not a werewolf either.” I said as Sam pressed the flat edge of a silver blade to my forehead.   
“Well then. Why are you here?” Sam asked as he put the knife back into his pocket.   
“Your guess is as good as mine. One second I’m in Nebraska talking to some nutjob about some friends of mine. The next, I’m here, she’s gone, and my freaking car is parked on the side of a dirt road God knows how far away from me. Do you mind taking these cuffs off?”  
Sam removed the restraints and Dean finally put his gun away, never breaking eye contact or relaxing the very pensive crease between his eyes.   
“This woman you were talking to, she got a name?” Sam asked me.  
“Yeah. Said her name was Hannah. The rest, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”  
“Son of a bitch, Hannah.” Dean said, meeting Sam’s mirrored annoyed look.  
Dean pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and dialed a number, walking out of the room. I wrung my hands around my wrists. I had forgotten how badly those things bit into your skin.   
“The name’s Y/N.” I told Sam.   
“I’m Sam. That’s my brother, Dean. He’s a little-”  
“Stressed? Uptight? Paranoid?”  
He chuckled. “All of the above I guess.”  
Dean walked back into the room followed very closely by another man who was wearing a long tan trench coat with a tie peeking out underneath.  
“Explain, Cas. Who is she and why would Hannah bring her here?”  
“I don’t know. Hannah hasn’t been in touch.” the man told him.  
“Look guys, my name is Y/N. Hannah said she was bringing me here because you helped some friends of mine a while back and I had nowhere else to go. She said you were hunters.” I explained as succinctly as I could.  
“These friends of yours, who are they?” Dean asked me, obviously not losing any of his suspicion of me.  
“Jo and Ellen Harvelle.”  
The look on their faces could speak volumes. Dean’s face dropped, as if I had ripped the ground out from underneath him and stolen his puppy all at once. Sam’s jaw clenched and his eyes dropped to the floor. Cas continued to stare at me.   
“Look, I know they’re dead. I know it happened a while ago and I know there’s nothing that can be done about it. But I also know that you were friends with them, yeah? That you were helping them at the end. You knew them. I did too. They were my only version of home when I was growing up.”  
Dean and Sam looked at each other for a moment, tears welling in both of their eyes. They exchanged a small nod and Dean turned on his heel, walking out of the room.  
“Come on. I’ll show you where you can stay.” Sam said, his hand brushing my elbow as he directed me down the hall.   
The walk was silent. Save only for our footsteps reverberating through the metallic hallways. He opened one of the doors to the right.   
“You can stay here for now. I’m in the room right next door if you need anything. We can figure out the rest in the morning. Get some shut eye.”  
“Hey, Sam?”  
He looked at me, the sadness still evident in his eyes.  
“Just…Sorry. And…Thanks. For letting me stay. And sorry for you know, dropping in on you like this. If it helps, I don’t even know where I’m at.”  
His stern expression broke as he told me “You’re at our place. In Lebanon, Kansas. It’s just an old bunker that a group of glorified hunters set up a long time ago.”  
“Gotcha. Well still. Thanks. And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a downer. Truth is, Hannah gave me the bare bones version of what happened to the Harvelle’s. I don’t know the details. Suffice it to say, I haven’t been around for a while.”  
“Why is that?” Sam said, his eyebrows meeting in the same crease that Dean had earlier.   
“It’s complicated. My dad was a hunter... I spent a lot of time at the roadhouse when I was younger. Dad left for a little too long one trip and CPS sent me to foster care. So now I’m on my own.”  
“I’m sorry.” Sam looked at me sympathetically.  
“Nah, don’t be. It hasn’t been too bad,” I said, taking a seat on the bed. “Besides, had that not all happened I wouldn’t have found myself here in these super sweet digs.”  
I gave him a smile and a laugh which he returned.  
“Goodnight, Y/N. We can figure out the rest tomorrow.”  
“Goodnight, Sam.”  
Sam turned around and closed the door behind him. I took a look around the room. A twin-size bed with plain linens and a comforter. An empty dresser save for the bible in the top right hand drawer. And a book on the end table. Pretty spartan.   
I laid down in bed and closed my eyes, not realizing just how tired I had been before sitting up realizing I had no clothing or bathroom necessities with me. Damnit.  
I opened the door and tiptoed over to Sam’s room. I knocked on the door and waited for a moment before Sam opened it a crack.  
He stared at me sleepily. “Sorry to wake you Sam, but where’s the bathroom? I just wanted to wash up a little before I hit the hay.”  
“Of course. Right across the hall.” he said, pointing to the door behind me.  
“Thanks. You wouldn’t happen to have a spare toothbrush, or anything would you? All of my stuff is in my car.”  
“Yeah. Come on, I’ll grab them.”  
He led me into the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet on the wall.   
“Here you go.” He handed me a green toothbrush and some generic toothpaste.   
“Oh thanks, you’re my knight in shining armor.” I joked with him. He smirked again, looking down at the ground and crossing his arms. Oh well aren’t you just adorable. Adorable and a whole ton of trouble I told myself. Don’t even think about it.  
Sam walked out of the bathroom after a quick shrug and a smile and left me to it.   
Well, that could’ve gone worse. I brushed my teeth and took a glance in the mirror. Still the same chunky face. Same Y/E/C eyes and Y/H/C hair. I pulled my hair tie out of my pocket and pulled my hair into a messy ponytail before walking out of the bathroom and into the room I was staying in.  
I laid down on the bed again and willed myself to sleep. Visions of my father laying on a beach in Florida, sipping mai-tai’s and reveling in the childless life he’d created for himself filled my head along with images of Jo screaming and writhing in pain. I watched all of the Harvelle’s being torn to shreds while I stood by, unable to move or stop it.  
I woke with a start and sat bolt upright with cold sweat running down my face and neck. My palms were cold and clammy as I ran my hands over my face, trying to wipe the images out of my eyes forcibly. The bathroom, I thought. Just get to the bathroom. I opened my door and stepped out into the hall just as Sam was heading into his bedroom. He looked over at me, concerned.  
“Y/N, you okay?”  
“Yeah. Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you. I just couldn’t really sleep. Sorry.”  
His face relaxed as he smiled at me. “You know, I think in the few hours you’ve been here, you’ve apologized more than anyone else I’ve ever met.”  
“Oh. I’m sorry. I guess I just….do…that.”  
“Okay, new rule? If you’re staying here, the word sorry is not in your vocabulary. Sound good?”  
I smiled at him. “I’ll see what I can do.”   
“The bathroom’s all yours” he said, as I walked by him and through the door. I glanced back at him before closing it. His eyes were still on mine, the same smile still on his face that I was sure was on mine too. Oh boy. I’m in trouble.  
“G'night Y/N.”   
I grabbed a paper towel and drenched it with cold water, wringing it out until it was no longer soaking. I ran it over my face and around my neck, taking deep breaths and trying to remember the meditation and relaxation tips my case worker had tried for so long to drill into my head. None of it had ever worked before. But then again, I hadn’t ever been in a situation like this with nightmares like these before.   
Throwing the towel in the trash, I made my way back to my room. When I walked in, there was a pair of sweatpants and a tank top laying on the bed along with a fresh glass of water on the end table. The book that had been there had been replaced with the same book I had been reading in the library.   
I smiled to myself, took a sip of the water and laid in bed, cracking the book open. Within minutes, my eyes drooped, and I succumbed to a dreamless sleep.

Part 3  
I woke up the next morning feeling refreshed and pretty sure that if that was what a decent night’s sleep felt like, then I’d never had one before.  
The sweatpants that (I assume) Sam had left me were comfortable and just my size, even though they were probably oversized on either of the boys. I left them, along with the tank top, on and wandered into the kitchen after stopping in the bathroom to wash up and brush my teeth again.  
Sam, Dean and Cas were all sitting around the table, apparently unaware of my entrance.  
“Well, she said she knew Hannah. That’s not necessarily a good thing.” Dean was stating.  
“I don’t think she’s a thread. And if Hannah did bring her here, can’t you just ask her why, Cas? I mean, she doesn’t exactly seem dangerous and with all the warding we have here? Come on, she’s not bad news.” Sam seemed defensive as he argued with the other two.  
“I’ve reached out to Hannah, but she has not gotten back to me. She isn’t exactly in my fast dialing.” Cas said.  
“Buddy, it’s speed dial. Speed. Dial, Cas.” Dean said teasingly.  
Sam dropped his head into his hands. “Then what? We tell her to leave? Kick her to the curb? Guys, I don’t think she has anywhere else to go.”  
“That’s not exactly our problem, Sammy. Some angel drops the kid on our doorstep so now we have to keep her?” Unfortunately, Dean’s argument was the same mine would be if I were in his shoes.  
“Dean’s right.” I said, putting on the bravest face I could and walking deliberately over to the table. All three of them startled by my sudden presence. Sam’s eyes went wide as his gaze met mine.  
“Y/N, no. He’s not.” he blurted out, panic in his voice.  
“He is though. You guys don’t know me. You don’t owe me anything. And if Hannah isn’t willing to contact you to let you know what’s up, then you have no reason to trust me, let alone let me stay here. It’s fine. I’ll just change and get out of your hair.”  
I turned on my heal and headed back to the room that, at least for last night, was mine. I tried to hold back tears as I realized that there never was going to be a home for me. No place that I belonged. Thanks Hannah I said to myself, sarcasm dripping from each syllable.  
I reached for the doorknob to the room but somebody else grabbed it first. I looked at the hand and followed it up to the face of the man connected to it. Sam’s face. Oh God, his face. His long hair askew, as if he’d been running his hands through it or tugging it out. His eyes locked on mine, pleadingly, and that same crease was forming between his brows.  
“Stay.” he said simply.  
“Sam, you know I can’t. Dean doesn’t trust me and neither of you have any reason to. It’s fine. Really. I’m used to bouncing from place to place. I’ll be fine.” I said, a sad attempt at lightening the mood.   
“Dean may not, but I do.” he said, matter-of-factly.  
“Why, Sam? You don’t even know me.”  
“I just do, alright? Call it a gut feeling. Just don’t leave yet. We can get to the bottom of this. We’ll get a hold of Hannah and it’ll be all good. Just stay for a little while longer.”  
I sighed, putting my hands on my hips. “Fine. An hour. That’s it. I’ll see if I can get Hannah here. I have no idea how, but I’ll try.”  
He seemed to instantly relax, giving me a smile and moving his hand from the doorknob to my shoulder. He gave it a squeeze before heading into his room while I rolled my eyes after him.  
I opened the door to the mine-for-another-hour room and sat on the bed. Well, I guess it’s worth a shot.  
“Hannah, angels, heavens or whatever. I need you. Oh Lord, this is ridiculous. Hannah, please be being my uber creepy fairy god stalker again and get down here.”   
There was a flutter of wind and Hannah was standing in front of me.  
“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” I exclaimed, standing up and grabbing onto her arms.  
Surprised, she stared at me wide eyed. “What?!”  
“The Winchester’s, you know the guys who you said could be my new home? Yeah. They don’t trust me. Mostly because you won’t confirm it. I need you to go talk to them. Please.”  
“My apologies. But they didn’t contact me. I would have explained to them otherwise.”  
“What do you mean? Cas said he’d tried to reach you.”  
“Castiel? I did not know. I would have contacted him.”  
“Well maybe your secretary needs to take better messages.” I told her, crossing my arms.  
She looked at me the way an unamused mother looks at a misbehaving child.  
“Sorry. They’re in the library. Well, Dean and Cas are. Please talk to them?”  
Hannah was gone just as fast as she appeared. That is really going to get annoying. I walked out of the room and knocked on Sam’s door. He opened it almost instantly.  
“Yeah?” he snapped. “Oh, Y/N. What’s up?”  
He looked tired. Stressed.  
“Hey Sam. I just wanted to let you know. Hannah’s in the library. Well at least I think she is. She’s going to talk-”  
“That’s great!” he bellowed as he barreled past me, sprinting towards the library. He stopped and turned to look at me. “Well? Aren’t you coming?”  
“Me? No thanks. I think I’ll pass on story hour. I’ve heard this one already. Thanks though.”  
I walked back into the room I’d been staying in and picked up my clothes, heading for the bathroom. A shower was definitely in order. I turned on the water as hot as it could comfortably get. I started thinking about what Hannah could be telling them. Was she telling them everything? Every sordid detail? Including the things that nobody really wanted to know about? She’d need to tell them about my father. Probably a little more about my past with Jo and the Harvelle’s. But I hoped that she could leave some of my past out of it.  
Any detail about the foster families I’d been with could be left unsaid. Like family number six. I really had thought that they were going to stick. That was, at least, until Mr. McMillan starting sneaking into my bedroom at night. Telling his wife that I had nightmares. Or family number eighteen. With seven other foster kids, all neglected and ignored. Existing only so that the Darvey’s could keep collecting paychecks.   
I shook my head, as if I could shake out the memories. I hadn’t even noticed that I’d begun crying. I took a deep breath and turned the water off. I grabbed the towel off of the rack to the right of the shower and began drying myself off. Calm down. It’s in the past. It’s done. I hadn’t thought about those times in years but the thought of Hannah telling anyone, especially Sam about them terrified me and I didn’t want to see the pity in his eyes that would undoubtedly accompany that knowledge.  
Once I was dry, I threw my hair up into a messy ponytail and put my clothes back on. Yesterday’s clothes. I really need to get Hannah to take me back to get my stuff. And my car.   
Heading back to the library, I tried to prepare for whatever I was about to walk into.   
“So, what do you think?” I asked, looking between Dean and Hannah.  
“Hannah’s story is the same as yours. Slightly more batshit, but we get the gist.” Dean said, taking a swig of his beer.   
Sam looked at me like I was a Christmas tree and it was December 24th. “You’re staying.”  
Letting go of a breath that I didn’t even know I was holding, I smiled.   
“Thank you.” I whispered.  
“Yeah, no problem. Enough of the sappy stuff. Sammy, we’ve got a case to work on. You can make doe eyes at each other later.” Dean said, abruptly standing up and grabbing a book from one of the shelves.   
“May I leave now?” Hannah asked me.  
“Sure. As soon as you take me to my car so I can get my things and drive my baby back here.”  
“Castiel will take you. There are matters I must attend to in heaven. He assures me he can take care of anything you may need from here.”  
“Okay. But wouldn’t it be easier for you to just zap me around rather than making him drive me?”  
They all looked at me. “What? What am I missing?”  
Castiel stood up in front of me. “Allow me,” he said, pressing his hand to my forehead.   
I felt that same dive in my gut and when I opened my eyes, I was standing in front of my car, Castiel by my side.  
“You know, you angels really need to start warning me when you do that!” I chastised, bending over and taking a few deep breaths.  
“My apologies. We can drive your car back to the bunker in a little over 3 hours. We should get going.” Castiel said.  
“Great. Now if only I would’ve had time to actually grab my car keys before you whisked me away.”  
With that, he disappeared. Oh, come on!  
Not ten seconds later, he was in front of me again handing me the keys to my own car.   
“Oh. Well then. I guess we can go. You can pop on back if you want. You don’t need to sit in a car for 3 hours.”  
“Yes, I do.”  
“What, are you out of your angelic mojo or something?”  
“My mojo is intact. Sam insisted I not leave you alone and that I guarantee your safety until you get back to the bunker. Also, you don’t know where you’re going. Hannah assured us that you hadn’t seen the entrance.”  
“I guess you have a point then. Shall we?” I motioned for Castiel to get in the car, a satisfied smile plastered on my face. Sam had wanted me safe? Trouble indeed. But attractive trouble, for sure.  
Part 4  
The drive passed quickly. I blared my music, sang along and headed south. Cas stared blankly out the windshield and didn’t seem to blink until we were almost in Lebanon. He gave me directions to what everyone else referred to as the bunker. I just hoped to be able to call it home.  
I pulled into the parking garage and looked around in awe. Classic cars, muscle and otherwise, surrounded me. A few motorcycles, too. And then I saw it. A 1950 Vincent Black Shadow. Pristine condition. Oh man, I have got to drive that.   
“Hey, Cas?” I asked, pausing to make sure he was paying attention. He looked at me.  
“Cas, whose bike is that?”  
“One of the Men of Letters.” he answered.  
I looked at him with my best confused puppy face. “Yeah, Cas? I have no idea what that is. Men of Letters?”  
I pulled into a spot near the Shadow.  
“The Men of Letters. They were an order of chroniclers, observers of the supernatural and mysterious. This was all theirs. The bunker and everything in it. Sam and Dean inherited it in a manner of speaking. Though the Men of Letters looked down upon hunters and wouldn’t approve of the situation very much. I suppose that is a moot point since they’re all dead.”  
“So what you’re saying is, the bike is ownerless. Do Sam or Dean ride it?” I began to get excited.  
“No. It’s impractical for hunting. Not to mention dangerous and aesthetically displeasing.”  
My jaw dropped. “Cas. You and I cannot be friends now.” I joked as I stepped out of the car and grabbed both of my duffle bags from the back seat. I walked by the bike slowly, lusting after it in the closest I could come to silence.  
“Follow me.” Cas said, as he powerwalked past me. I followed him until we were in a hall I recognized as the one with my room in it. “I’m good from here, Cas.”  
He stopped and faced me, nodding, as Sam stepped out of his room.  
“Hey. Glad you’re back. How was the drive?”  
“Y/N speeds. Roughly 6 to 7 miles above the limit on average. Also, she sings. Loudly and off key. Though she seems to enjoy it. She has also informed me that we are not friends.” I stared at Cas in awe.  
“Come on, man. That was a joke. We can be friends, even if you despise the most perfect motorcycle ever created.”  
“A joke. I missed that. I agree. We can be friends.”  
I shook my head, laughing as Cas held out his hand to me. I grabbed it in my own and shook it. “Angels are so weird. And hey! I sing beautifully.”  
“Is this another joke?” He asked me sincerely. I gave no answer.  
“I’m sure you sing like an angel.” Sam said from behind, humoring me as he put his hands on my shoulders. I shuttered from the contact. He peaked over my shoulder and looked down at me.   
“Let me grab your bags.” he said, releasing me, picking my duffle bags up off of the floor and opened the door to my room.   
I followed behind him as he brought my bags in and set them on the bed. Taking it in, I looked around the room. My eyes landed on the bouquet of wildflowers in an old beer bottle that sat on the end table. My face broke out into a big smile and I chuckled.  
“What?” Sam asked, turning around. He followed my gaze to the flowers.  
“Oh. Those. I thought they could be a nice housewarming gift. Sorry about the beer bottle. Turns out we don’t have any vases. I can toss them if you don’t want them” he babbled.  
“No, Sam. They’re wonderful. Thank you. That was really sweet of you.” I gave him a smile, my cheeks blushing scarlet as he looked at me and then quickly away.   
“Don’t mention it. Uh, I think that’s everything then.” He started to head for the door. I reached out and brushed my fingertips against his arm as he passed.  
“Sam?” I called after him. He stopped and inclined his head towards me, still facing the door. “Thank you. For everything. It means a lot.”  
“No problem.” he smirked and walked out the door.  
* * *  
The next five months passed in a blur. While Sam seemed to do his best at making my heart race, Dean did his best to teach me how to hunt. I learned everything that I could from the library and from Dean and Sam’s experiences. Fighting and protecting myself wasn’t a problem. I had known how to defend myself since I was 5 and my father insisted on teaching me. Even with CPS and the foster homes, I had kept practicing. But Dean taught me the things I’d need to be able and know how to do on a hunt.   
We started working a case. A simple job. A siren that had been causing trouble near Huntersville, Alabama. The three of us had gotten into town on a Sunday night and began interviewing everyone that had come into contact with the Siren, most of whom were in county lockup. We had already identified the Siren and had a bronze dagger ready to go. All we needed was bait.  
“Come on Deano, just let me do this. I’m great as bait.” I whined.  
“So not gonna happen.” he told me, a definite dad tone to his voice. I glared at him, waiting for his defenses to weaken. “Look, if you can get Sam to agree to your insane plan, then fine. I’m on board. But there’s no way that’s going to happen. No way he lets you walk into a Siren’s trap. Anybody else sure, but he’d beat me bloody if I let you do it.”   
“Fine! Then I’ll make him see that this is the only plan that works!” Sam had gone out for food and would be back at any minute. I paced while I waited for him, my arms crossed and my pout strong. Dean just sat at the table, the laptop in front of him, laughing at me and shaking his head. “Ten bucks he says no.”  
With that, Sam walked in the door, bags of fast food in his hands. Dean and I both turned and looked at him immediately.  
“Woah, what’d I miss? You have angry face and Dean has never looked so cocky.”  
I glanced back at Dean. “Go ahead, Y/N. Tell him your brilliant plan. Be my guest. You carry cash, right?”  
“Plan?” Sam looked at me.  
“Yeah. I have a plan. One that I think will work.”  
“Shoot.” Sam said, making his way to the table and unloading the food.   
“Okay, so this Siren, it’s only been going after women. All sidekick types. No femme fatales, right? Makes them go crazy once he’s got them good and infected. So, I figure, we use me as bait. I can get the Siren’s attention. You guys can be at the ready with the blade. We’ve already got some blood from the last victim. Tada. Siren’s focused on me and you guys come in and gank it.”  
Sam stared at me for a second, seeming to be thinking about my proposal before looking me dead in the eyes. “Absolutely not. We can do this another way.”  
“Hah! You owe me ten bucks.” Dean cackled.   
“Dean, stuff it.” I shouted. “Why not? What’s the problem with that?”  
“You want us to use you as bait? Your fist hunt, and you want to go face off with a Siren? No way. We’ll do it another way.”  
“There IS no other way, Sam! People are dying and this will work!”  
“Why would it work?! You don’t fit the guy’s M.O!”   
“Oh, come on! You know that isn’t true!” We glared at each other at a dead lock. Until I sighed and headed for the door. The keys to the Shadow in my pocket, begging to be used.   
“Y/N-” Sam called after me. The roar of the engine starting up drowned him out and I headed for the dive bar. I knew that the Siren, going by the name Holland, had been using it as his hunting grounds. I didn’t need the Winchesters with me to take care of this hunt.  
I walked into the bar, still pouting, and spotted Holland sitting at the end furthest from the entrance facing the door. I sauntered up to my seat across from him and ordered my usual, a whiskey stone sour, and began sipping it. “Your friends meeting you tonight?” the Bartender asked me. Sam, Dean and I had made a habit of spending evenings here. Our FBI Agent personas using it as a place to relax, shoot some pool and sling back a few drinks.  
“I don’t think they’re going to make it in tonight, Eddie. They’ve got dates, I guess. I’m on my own for tonight. Keep ‘em coming.” I retorted, being sure to but a little animosity and edge to my voice.  
I could already see Holland sizing me up out of the corner of my eye. Pulling out my cell phone, I started typing out a text to Dean.  
At Eddie’s Place. Holland’s here. Be ready out back in 15.  
He responded quicker than ever.  
Son of a bitch. Sam’s gonna kill you, Y/N.   
I smiled and dimmed my screen, putting my phone back in my pocket and slugging back the rest of my drink. Eddie had another one ready to go as soon as the last drop was on my lips. “Thanks,” I said, shoving another dollar in the tip jar. I got up, went over to the pool table and started racking the balls haphazardly.   
“Now, that’s no way to start. You don’t even have them in the right order.” Holland had come up to the table, his Corona in hand, and started sizing me up, a devious and delicious smile. His hair was longer than it had been, and his eyes were now hazel, instead of the blue they were the night that he went after his last victim, Miranda.  
“Naw, I just play for fun. To relax. My partners are the ones with the skills who shark the place. I can barely hit the que to begin with.” I joked at him. He was biting.   
“Well, I’ll play you. Doesn’t seem right, a pretty girl like you playing alone.”   
I rolled my eyes at him. “Oh yeah, that’s rich. Dude try that line on a girl that’s actually pretty. Like her over there, I motioned towards the blonde bombshell at the bar.”   
“Her? Too flashy. You’re honest about it.” he gave me that same smile.  
“Right. Because I’m so wonderful,” I injected sarcasm and sadness into the words as I said them. “I’m gonna go out back and have a smoke before playing. Thanks for the chat.” I said, sounding as dejected as possible hoping he’d follow. As I opened the back door and heard footsteps behind me, I could already tell that my plan had worked. I grabbed my propane lighter out of my back pocket, keeping up appearances.  
“Decided to join me?” I asked.  
“Well I never could resist such tempting bait before. Could you?” I looked up to see Holland looking at Eddie, waiting for an answer.  
“Of course not. Far too tempting a treat.” Eddie cackled as I watched the face I knew morph into the true face of a siren.  
“Well shit. Didn’t expect that.”

Part Five  
“What, no backup?” Holland questioned, his eyes glistening and his smile widening. “thought for sure your dear Sammy would be with you. Don’t worry though,” his tongue slithered. “Soon, you won’t remember him. Soon, you’ll love me too much to even remember his face. That is, after you’ve bashed it in.” The words slithered out of his mouth, a snake trying to seduce his victim. I saw his eyes turn hazel, his short frosted tips give way to longer brown locks.   
“I thought I got to have this one.” Eddie crooned. “I picked her out and all.”  
“Not a chance, little brother.” Holland replied, slowly walking down the back steps, coming ever closer to me.  
Oh, I’ll be bait. In an alley. With only one dagger. Genius.  
Within seconds, Holland was right in front of me, reaching for my throat. I grabbed for my Kimber and took a shot at his knee.   
He recoiled momentarily. “Dumb bitch. Bullets can’t kill me!”  
“True,” I conceded. “But they sure can slow you down.” I mocked, taking the opportunity to pull the bronze dagger out and force it into Holland’s chest.   
The light left his eyes as I watched them fade back to his actual pale-yellow irises. His skin became grey and his mouth stretched into a ghastly toothy O shape while his hair balded before me.  
“You bitch!” Eddie screamed from the doorway as he lunged at me. His massive arms held me against the alley wall, one of his forearms pressed against my throat as his other hand wrapped around my wrist, slamming it against the wall behind me until the dagger fell from my hand.  
“You want to play dirty, little girl? I can play dirty.” Eddie threatened. His hair turned a salt and pepper black as it grew into a military grade cut. His eyes shined a caramel brown that struck me in my core. Those eyes. I knew those eyes. They were my father’s eyes. His hair. Every one of his features came to life as Eddie transformed in front of me, never losing his grip.   
I tried to get free, struggling against him as he lifted me up higher against the wall and my breath grew more and more shallow. I reared back with my free arm, attempting to push his arm down and away from me. He only seemed to grow stronger. I pulled my foot back against the wall, hoping to land a solid kick to the groin of the man who was looking more and more like my dad by the second.  
“You know why he left you, right? Why I left you?” Eddie goaded, his mouth inches from my ear. “You know why I abandoned you? Who wouldn’t? Look at you. Pathetic. Plain. You can’t even protect yourself. I ran away from you. You’re nothing. To anyone.” He hissed at me. “You never will be. Not to me. Not to Sam. Not to Dean. No one. You’re nothing.”  
His words faded out as my vision started to go black. I felt my arms go limp and a sharp pain in the back of my head as I watched my father slam it against the wall again just as the black tunnel completely obscured my sight.  
I woke to two large hands shaking my shoulders and screaming my name though it sounded like whispers. My watery eyes flitted open and I suddenly panicked, reaching for my gun again.  
“Hey, woah there. Come on, it’s Dean. Leave the gun alone.” Dean stared at me, his hands up as if he were surrendering to me.   
“Come on, kid, you’ve gotta say something,” he pleaded, his green eyes desperate.  
“Eddie?” I whispered, my voice hoarse and my throat dry and crackly.  
“Sam took care of him,” he gestured to Sam behind him, pacing, his arms crossed as he glanced at me every few seconds.  
“Come on. Let’s get you home.” Dean said, leaning forward and pressing a protective kiss to my forehead.  
I began standing myself up, using the wall as leverage when Sam ran over to me.  
“Let me he-” he started.  
“I’m fine.” I snapped, trying to keep him at bay.  
“Y/N, let me help you.” he begged; his eyes strained.  
“Okay.” I whispered, letting him prop me up on his shoulder and half carry me to the car. He tucked me into the passenger seat and was about o close the door when I remembered.  
“Wait, Sam!” I tried to yell.  
“What’s wrong?” he startled.  
“My bike, the Shadow. I need to drive it-”  
“No way in hell. You aren’t doing anything tonight. Not after what just happened. Dean will bring it home. Stay put.” He ordered, enunciating each word. He closed the door and walked over to where Dean stood over the two siren bodies that were about to be engulfed in flames. Dean nodded and waved in my direction before Sam came back to the Impala,  
He climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine.  
“I didn’t think Dean let anyone else drive the Impala.” I asked, confused.  
“Well, in this situation, Dean could see the sense in it. He knew it was the most rational plan, so he was fine with it,” he answered pointedly.  
I rolled my eyes, eliciting a sharp twinge of pain to my already aching head and, for some reason, sore eyes. We spent the rest of the drive in silence but I could see Sam’s clenched jaw. He was fuming.  
He pulled into the garage, parked and turned off the car. Making no move to get out, he sat staring at the steering wheel.  
“Sam?” He sighed.  
“Look, Sam, I know you’re pissed at me but-”  
“Pissed? Damn right I’m pissed!” he bellowed, turning to look at me.   
“I told you not to do it. Hell, Dean even said it was a bad idea, but you did it anyway. The trap you were so hell bent on backfired. You could have died. What the hell, Y/N?” his voice was deep and lecturing.   
I opened my door and stood in the garage, leaning against the car. I heard Sam close the driver’s side door as he got out. He walked over to me and glared at me in silence.  
“It worked though, didn’t it?” I said, pouting like a petulant child.  
His eyes widened. “Worked? You think that plan worked?”  
“They’re dead, aren’t they? Yeah, they knew I was bait and yeah, there were two instead of one but they’re dead now. Eddie’s little speech proved I was their M.O. Bait was successful.”  
“What are you talking about?” he questioned, angrily.  
“Eddie. He confirmed it. All of it. I was just the pathetic unloved woman they were looking for. And now they’re dead. Seems pretty successful to me.”  
Sam stared at me, anger radiating off of him. “Nothing about this was a success. And you know that you aren’t pathetic or unloved. That siren was full of shit and you know it.”  
“Oh, don’t give me that, Sam. You can’t stand there saying that and actually believe it. You’re not that dumb. You don’t know what it feels like. Look at you. You’re gorgeous! You have a family that loves you! Look at me! I am nothing!” Tears welled in my eyes, threatening to overrun at any second. And there he stood. Starring. His eyebrows furrowed and angry, whole body rigid.  
“I am looking at you. You know what I see? I see this beautiful woman. This woman who puts everyone else before her. Leaves her happiness in the dust if it means someone else’s isn’t. I see the woman grew up alone when she deserved so much more. I look at you and I see the woman who makes me feel alive. Whose touch sends electricity right through me,” he paused, uncrossing his arms and walking towards me, placing his hands on either side of my face.  
“Don’t you ever, even for a second, say or even think that you’re nothing.”  
He leaned in and gingerly pressed his lips to mine, locking eyes with me as if to ask my permission. His lips were soft. Smooth and comforting. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. Surely he heard it too. Was I even breathing? My hands dropped down, surrendering to him. My fingertips found his waist as I wrapped myself up in him, unwilling to let go.

Part Six  
I felt Sam move one hand behind my head, his fingers entwining in my hair, while he brought his other arm around my waist. The kiss had started out gentle, soft and caressing. Now, he was pulling me closer to him, kissing me harder by the second, devouring me and leaving me breathless.  
All too soon, he was breaking our contact and pushing me away from him, back towards the Impala.  
I struggled to catch my breath, my right hand instinctively lifting as I felt my bottom lip with my fingertips still in disbelief. I looked up to meet Sam’s eyes. He looked so conflicted. So worried. His eyebrows much more dramatically furrowed than I’d ever seen them.  
“Sam.” I reached out to him. He immediately recoiled, dropping his eyes to the concrete floor.  
Within seconds, our thoughts were interrupted by the growl of the Shadow’s engine as Dean pulled into the garage. I glanced behind me at him before turning back to Sam just in time to notice the tears in his eyes as he clenched his jaw, turned and walked away.  
Dean pulled up next to me, blocking my way from running after his brother. “Hey,” he said, cheery and unaware. “Did I miss something?” he asked, his head turning to Sam’s retreating back and again at me.  
I brought my hands up in frustration, rubbing my temples and trying to relieve the throbbing pain in my head. “I have no idea,” I answered, my eyes screwed shut.  
“Let’s get you to bed. I’ll see if I can find some soup and pain meds for you.” He dismounted my bike and placed the helmet on the seat before putting his hand on my shoulder and coaxing me towards the door. “Yeah,” I said. “Okay.”  
Dean stayed a step behind me all the way to the bathroom. He began to push the door open for me. “Uh, Deano?” I questioned.   
“Yeah?” he answered quickly, biting his lip.  
“I kinda need to do this part on my own.” I told him, gesturing to the bathroom.  
“Oh. Yeah. Yeah definitely. I’ll get your dinner ready. Do your…stuff. Then straight to bed. I’ll bring it in to you.” He turned and walked towards the kitchen after giving me a concerned once over.  
I’m really not that bad.  
I pushed my way into the bathroom, cursing the fluorescent lighting, as I ran cold water in the sink and rinsed off my face. I looked up and into the mirror, surveying the damage. Holy shit. A very large bruise was already forming across my throat where Eddie had pinned me. My eyes were bloodshot with multiple burst blood vessels around them. There was dried blood on my neck, presumably from hitting my head against the wall. No wonder they’re freaking out.  
My looks weren’t exactly stellar on a good day. But if nothing else, the vibrant red made my Y/E/C eyes pop. Gotta find the upside.  
I grabbed my hair bush and attempted to tame my wild hair. I put it up into a ponytail and began rinsing my neck off.   
Once the blood was all gone, I rinsed my face once more and hoped for the best. I heard the bathroom door open while my head was in the sink, dripping with cold water.  
“Uh, Dean. I’m not done yet. I’ll go right to bed, just give me a minute.” I berated as I grabbed a towel and dried my face off.   
When I looked up, it was Sam starring back at me through the mirror. He leaned back against the door and took a deep breath.  
“Sam.” I turned back around to face him.   
“We can’t do this.” He said, determined.   
“Do what?” I asked him.  
“I shouldn’t have kissed you. I’m sorry for that. It shouldn’t have happened.” He wasn’t making eye contact with me, avoiding my eyes and speaking softly.  
“Why shouldn’t it have happened?” I implored him as I felt my heart sink into my stomach and my breath catch in my chest.   
“Y/N, we’re hunters. We don’t get happy endings. We die young and bloody, messy, and alone. There isn’t a happily ever after and we don’t get the luxury of falling in love. People just end up hurt or dead. I won’t do that. Not to you. There’s no white picket fence, with a dog and two point five kids in our future.”  
“Well. You sure do know how to sweep a girl off her feet. I feel so special. Thanks for that.” I offered, sarcastically, setting my towel down on the sink and making my way to the door, waiting for Sam to move.  
He just stared at me, expectantly and unmoving.  
“Excuse me.” I growled.   
“Y/N, just-”  
“No, Sam. I don’t have to just do anything. See, apparently, I made the mistake of believing that there were actually some sort of feelings that went into that kiss. At least there were on my side. Still are. But I guess I was wrong. My mistake and it won’t happen again. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d really like to go to my room and sleep this entire night off.” I held the tears that had formed in my eyelids back. One blink and they’d fall.   
“Y/N, you have to under-”  
“You have to move. You’re blocking the door.” I broke eye contact, refusing to look at him. He sighed and moved over, begrudgingly holding the door open and letting me pass as the first of many tears began to fall from my eyes.  
I pushed into my room, letting the tears fall unfiltered.  
“Shit, Y/N, are you okay?” Dean startled.  
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were in here.” I explained, trying to get myself pulled back together.  
“What happened?” he asked me.  
“I’m fine, really.” I lied. “Just saw myself in the mirror. Hadn’t realized how bad it was. It’s just overwhelming is all.”  
“Sorry, kid. You’ve got some soup on the table there and some Tylenol. That’s the best we’ve got unless you want some whiskey.” he joked.  
“You know, whiskey doesn’t sound too bad right now.” I said, wiping the last of my tears away and heading toward the kitchen. I grabbed the whiskey bottle out of the bar. Not bothering with a glass, I took a swig from the neck and groaned as the soothing burn ran down my throat. My laptop was sitting out on the table, just as I had left it. I sat down in front of it, still nursing the bottle which was now about a quarter gone.  
“Let’s research.” I said to the empty room. “Find me a case.”  
I scoured news articles and police reports for an hour, looking for any sign of a case and came up with very little.   
“What are you doing?” I heard a deep voice ask. I looked up to see Sam’s eyes boring into mine.  
“Research. And drinking.” I retorted, taking another gulp from the now ¾ empty bottle. I turned back to the laptop screen, the words begging to start to double and spin. I rubbed my eyes and tried to focus.  
“You should be in bed.” Dean stated, walking up behind Sam.  
I let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m fine. I’m fully capable of taking care of myself and making my own choices.” I glared at Sam. “There’s no need for anyone to tell me what I should or shouldn’t want or do.”  
“Okay, Ms. Boozey. Bed. Come on.” Dean practically laughed at me.  
“I’ll take her.” Sam said, patting his brother’s chest and stopping him from approaching me. He made his way over to me, gently grabbing my hand and forcing me to gasp as that electricity that only his touch seemed to create flowed down my arm. I stood, grabbing the whiskey bottle with my other hand and downing the rest of the liquid.  
“I can take myself.” I snapped, my hand still holding his. I leaned in close to him. “You’ve already made it clear that taking me isn’t on your to-do list.” I whispered to him, my eyes beginning to water again despite the liquid courage.  
“Come on.” he pleaded. “We need to talk.” I let him lead me to my bedroom, our hands still clasped together as we walked.  
He opened the door and I immediately sat down on my bed. I picked up the now cold soup Dean had left out for me and sipped at it. Sam sat down next to me.  
“I really wish we didn’t have to have this conversation while you’re drunk.” He wiped one hand down his face, pulling on his chin before dropping his hand back to his lap.   
“Well I really wish we didn’t have to have this conversation at all. And I’m not drunk.”   
He chuckled. “Right. An entire bottle of Jack but you’re not drunk.”  
“There’s a difference between drunk and tipsy. Am I tipsy? Sure. Mouthier than normal? Yes. Is my brain to mouth filter gone? Completely. But I’m not drunk. I’m a big tubby girl. It takes more than that bottle to get me wasted.”  
He narrowed his eyes at me, clenching his jaw. “Stop doing that.” he barked. I looked at him, confused. “Tearing yourself down. I hate it when you do that. It physically pains me to hear.”   
I laughed and set down the bowl. Looking at his face, I knew he meant what he had said.  
“Well, I’m sorry for that, Sam. Truly, I am. I don’t mean to hurt you. You’re the last person I’d ever want to hurt. That’s the problem, isn’t it though?”  
His mouth twitched into a smirk. I stood up, needing some distance for what I was about to say. Leaning against my desk, opposite Sam, I collected my thoughts. “I’ve never had a home before. You know that. But I do now. And most of that is because of you. I care about you, Sammy. A lot. Probably more than I should. And I think you care about me, too. If I’m way off base, tell me. Yeah, it’ll sting but I’d rather rip the band aid off fast. Before it’s just too much to bear.” I let out the breath I was holding and stared down at my feet.  
Seconds ticked by that felt like an eternity while he stayed silent, and my hopes began to dwindle rapidly.  
Suddenly, Sam stood in front of me, pulling me to him with one hand behind my heck and the other at my hip. Before I had time to think, his lips were on mine again, ravenous and passionate.  
He pulled his mouth away for just a moment, just long enough to speak. “Does that answer your question?” His eyes gazed back at me. I nodded, and Sam’s lips were on mine once more. 

Part Seven  
“Sam,” I moaned, as he hungrily kissed my neck; licking and biting at my skin and sending shivers down my spine. He wrapped his strong, muscular arms around my thighs, and lifted me up so that I was now sitting on the desk behind me.  
He leaned into me, my head pressing against the wall as he explored my hips, my back, my chest, with his gentle yet firm hands. Every molecule in my body felt as if it were singing at his touch. My hands tangled in his hair, I lifted his now red and swollen lips back to my face and began kissing him once more. Hard. Hungry. Wanton. I parted my lips, begging him to explore my mouth further. He obliged and the taste of him was heady and overwhelming.  
My fingers were unbuttoning his flannel shirt, taking as much time as I could, attempting to stretch out the inevitable. His hands found my chest, caressing each nipple through my shirt with his thumbs as they came to attention and pressed into his palms.  
“Please,” I pleaded, wanting nothing more than to have him tear my clothes off of me. I felt him smile against my mouth. “Oh no, Y/N. I’m going to take my time with you. We are going to enjoy this,” he teased, his deft fingers slowly tracing their way beneath the hem of my shirt, toying with me as he oh so slowly lifted it up over my head.  
His mouth was back on me the moment my shirt hit the floor. His tongue seductively playing with my ear lobe as he drew it into his mouth and bit down softly, eliciting more moans from me. I ran my hands up his exposed chest, pushing his flannel shirt back over his shoulders until it joined my top on the floor. He stood just a foot or so away from me and it seemed too far. I wanted him closer. So much closer.  
I reached out for him, my fingers longing for his touch, my skin burning to be caressed by him. As if he could feel my need he moved closer to me again, wedging himself between my legs and pressing his erection against my core.  
“Too much clothing still on,” he breathed, moving his hands down to the zipper of my pants and yanking me to a standing position. “These need to go.” I stood in front of him, ready and teetering on the edge of my own sanity, wearing nothing but my bra and panties as he knelt down, bringing my jeans down to the ground with him. He looked up at me with those puppy dog eyes that were now filled with such lust, as he slipped his fingers into the hips of my underwear and pulled them down to my ankles. Still looking into my eyes, he stuck his tongue out of his mouth and gently licked my already pulsating clit. I gasped, my arousal overtaking me as I threw my head back.   
“None of that now, Y/N,” he said as he drew his tongue back. “I need your eyes on me.” I looked back down at him, meeting his gaze again as his tongue dipped into me once again, causing me to shutter. He stood back up all too quickly leaving me aching for him.  
“So not fair, Sam.” I told him through ragged breaths.  
“I want you in bed,” he confessed as he grasped my hips in his capable hands and pulled me towards him as he backed up towards my bed, kissing me the entire time. He turned me around, laying me on my back as he swiftly climbed in bed, hovering over me, our lips still connected.   
A moment of doubt crept into my mind. “Are you sure you want to do this?” I questioned him, giving him the out that I thought he might need. He looked me square in the eyes as he brought his hand to rest against my cheek. “Look at me, Y/N. I have never wanted anything, anyone, more than I want you now. Than I’ve wanted you since you stumbled into this bunker. Get out of your head and just trust this,” he said sincerely as he thrust his still clothed hips into me, allowing me to feel his erection.  
I smiled in response and began to unzip his jeans as he pressed his warm welcoming lips to mine again. His jeans were around his knees and he kicked them off, throwing them on the floor beside the bed. “I can’t wait anymore,” he groaned, bolting up from the bed as he pulled off his navy-blue briefs and tossed them behind him. I chuckled as he lay back in bed, lying down next to me as he pulled my hips to face him, now laying on my side as he crashed his lips against mine. His hand moved down my hip to my center as he gently moved his finger in circles over my nub. I moaned as he pressed his finger inside of me, drawing it out and back in again, massaging my walls while his thumb kept up the intense circles against my already wet clit.   
“My God, Sam. I’m going to cum.” I whispered in his ear, unable to control my voice.  
“That’s the point,” he smirked. I felt that familiar pull as my body built up to it’s crescendo. My breathing hitched and I could feel my legs becoming rigid as I groaned and tried my best not to scream. “Sam!” I shouted as I reached my climax. He took my mouth with his, kissing me heard and muffling my screams as I came down from my high. Sam lifted my leg up and wrapped it around his hips as I began catching my breath.   
He gently pressed his swollen member into me, filling me and making me gasp at the sensation. “Fuck, Y/N. You feel amazing,” he breathed, his eyes closing as he pressed his forehead against mine. “You have no idea,” I managed to say between breaths.   
He began to move. First slowly, and then more swiftly as I could feel my body building up to another orgasm. “Harder,” I pleaded, feeling myself balancing on the edge. “Cum with me,” he pleaded. Moments later, I obliged as we both reached our climaxes together. He grunted, slamming into me one last time. He wound his hands in my hair, bringing my lips to his and kissing me softly, tenderly.  
“Wow,” I praised him. “That was-”  
“Disappointing? Unfulfilling?” he teased.  
“Definitely. You might as well just leave now.” I prodded back. He moved to leave the bed, a smile on his face. “Well, if you say so.”  
“Get out of this bed and I will chase you down, Winchester.” He laughed as he rolled back into my arms. We both calmed down, caught our breath, and locked eyes with each other.   
“So,” Sam started to say.  
“Shower?” I suggested, taking the twitch of his eyebrows as agreement. I grabbed the sheet that we had been laying on and wrapped it around myself as I sat up. I stood and made my way to the door, cracking it open and peeking out into the hallway to make sure that nobody would see us sneaking out together.   
“It’s clear,” I called back to him as he slid his briefs back on and I made my way across the hall.   
We both jumped in the shower, taking our time washing each other and soaking in each tender touch and gentle caress. After we finished cleaning each other, we toweled off and I wrapped myself back up in the sheet. “So then, I guess I’ll see you in the morning?” I asked, hoping my assumption was wrong.  
“What? I mean…that’s fine. If it’s what you want. I just figured we would go to bed. Together,” he answered, as he tucked his damp hair behind his ears. I smiled at him. “I was really hoping you’d say that.”   
* * *  
The next morning, I woke up and was surprised to find the bed empty. I hadn’t expected to wake up alone. Maybe he just changed his mind I told myself, attempting to deny the pang of disappointment I felt. After getting myself dressed and running a brush through my hair, I headed out towards the kitchen to get myself some breakfast.  
“Morning, hon,” Sam’s voiced carried through the kitchen. I was surprised to find him there making breakfast. “Oatmeal?”  
“Sounds perfect,” I let out a sigh of relief as I walked over to stand next to him. His hands stopped stirring the oatmeal in the pot. “Hey” he said, getting my attention. I looked up at him as he smiled and bent down to great me with a kiss. I beamed up at him.   
“Well don’t you two just look like the coziest of cushy apple pie couples,” Dean’s grumpy so-not-a-morning-person’s voice sounded from the hallway. We both looked over at him, questioningly. “Hey, I’m not knocking it. As long as it doesn’t get between me and my bacon” he said, reaching into the fridge to grab his version of breakfast. “Tell me there’s coffee,” he grumbled.  
“In the pot,” Sam answered, returning the the oatmeal he was heating up. I leaned my head against his shoulder, kissing him arm before walking over to the coffee pot and pouring Dean a cup.   
“So what’s got you all grouchy?” I asked Dean.  
“We’ve got a case. Witches up near Detroit. I hate witches. All spells and potions and hexes. Just creepy,” he began going on and on about the positive attributes of every other monster and creepy crawly over witches and I did my best not to laugh.   
“Deano, if you want, I can always head on up there and take care of it myself. No witch interaction required for you.” Dean looked up to meet Sam’s eyes which suddenly looked determined as his jaw clenched and he gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.  
“What was that?” I asked, glaring at him, astonished.  
“Nothing,” Sam answered, dropping his eyes back down to the oatmeal as he turned the burner off and began spooning it out into the two bowls he had on the counter.  
I walked over to where he stood, wrapping my arms around his waist. “Sammy,” I cooed. “If you don’t want me going with on this case, all you have to do is ask me.” He turned to face me, my arms still around him.   
“Really? I can ask you to not hunt, and you’ll listen?” He said, astonished.  
“It’s worth a shot.” I offered.  
He looked down at me, his eyes sparkling. He dropped his mouth down to my ear. “If I’d known it would make it this easy to keep you safe, I would’ve taken you to bed a long time ago.” He pulled his face back from mine. “I don’t want you to go on this hunt. Will you please stay here? Stay safe?” he asked, hopeful.  
I smiled at him and kissed him softly on the lips. “Not a chance.”  
Part 8  
We all piled into the Impala. Dean insisted on driving while Sam took shotgun and I lounged across the backseat. After a week in Southfield, just outside of Detroit, we had taken down a coven of witches who had been hell bent on their rather extreme and violent vision for the town. They had been systematically taking out all male members of the city council and filling in the vacancies with members from their ranks.  
It didn’t take much time to sort out. I had gone around to the houses of the men who were yet alive and finding the hex bags and torching them. Sam and Dean set out on cornering the coven and doing their best to rid the town of them. In the end, all but two of them women had given up. The last two had turned the tables on the Winchester’s just before I came in. Dean got the drop on one of the two while I, much to Sam’s chagrin, engaged in some hand-to-hand combat with the other until she eventually got knocked out and laid on the floor, unconscious.  
“What the hell was that?!” he had questioned me a couple of seconds after the Wicked Witch of the North hit the ground. I smiled at him. “That, sweetheart, was me doing my job. And very well I might add.”  
“Hey, thanks for the assist, kid. Appreciate it,” Dean said as he walked over to us, patting me forcefully on the back. “You done good. Now who’s up for a burger?”  
“Well what are we going to do with her?” I asked, motioning to incapacitated witch.  
“Cas’ll take care of it.” Dean assured me as I noticed a familiar khaki colored trench coat blur past me.   
We headed to a diner down the road, Dean yet again taking the driver’s seat while Sam joined me in the back.  
“Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” Sam worried, inspecting my face with his adept fingers, that crease forming between his brows.   
“Sammy, I’m fine,” I assured him, laughing and grabbing his hands in my own. “What will Cas do with her?” I was nervous about the possibilities.  
“Normally, he’d take her someplace safe. Somewhere that rendered her magic unusable. But in this case, he was planning on just wiping her memory. Changing her memories and her life so that she doesn’t remember any of it,” Dean answered from the front seat nonchalantly.   
“Huh.” I wasn’t entirely sure what my feelings were on their chosen method of handling the situation. Without giving me more than a couple of seconds to mull over what his brother had just told me, Sam pulled me close to him, kissing me chastely.   
* * *

We spent the next few months in apparent bliss. Sam had systematically moved all of my belongings from my room over to his within a matter of weeks and I was now a permanent resident in his room. Something I didn’t protest in the slightest.   
Job after job, we kicked some ass. We saved lives, killed monsters, and genuinely worked amazingly well together. Even when Sam was doing his best to cover up how nervous and overprotective he was of me. My hunting skills were progressing day by day and Dean kept training me.   
After some time, my curiosity regarding my father started to get the best of me. Hannah had only said that he was alive and still hunting. But that was almost a year ago. At this point, he could be dead or worse. And I couldn’t decide which scenario would be best.   
One day, while Sam and Dean were out on a supply run and I was left at the bunker, cleaning up after all of us, I decided to reach out to Hannah, hoping to find some answers.   
“Hannah? I need you,” I prayed, hoping she still could hear me. I got my answer within seconds. She stood in front of me in the middle of the kitchen, smiling with a closed mouth and tilting her head to the side like an excited puppy.  
“It’s nice to see you again, Y/N. What can I do for you?” she asked.  
“Hey Hannah, how’ve you been?” I asked.  
“Heavenly.”  
“Oh my. Was that a joke? Did you just make a pun? Hannah, I’m so proud!” I teased.  
Hannah laughed and seemed to relax. “What can I do for you, Y/N? You seem to have made the home I told you about. And then some,” she raised her eyebrows at me, a warm blush rising in my cheeks.  
“Yes, well. I had questions for you. You said, before, about my father, that he was alive? Is he still?” I fumbled nervously.  
She looked at me, confused. “Yes. He’s still alive. Why do you ask?”  
“Well, the thing is, he’s still my father. Yeah, he abandoned me, but I would like to know why at least. See if maybe we can talk. Have some sort of relationship, ya know?”  
Hannah sighed, hanging her head and handing me a piece of paper. “This is his phone number. Call if you must. Or I can take you to him if you’d rather. But, Y/N, don’t set your hopes too high. He isn’t a bad man. But he might not be a good one either.” Her eyes peered into my own and seemed to be trying to tell me more than the words she was saying were.  
“Thanks,” I said with a troubled smile.   
She gave me a quick one-armed hug and was gone within seconds.   
I pulled my phone out of my pocket, unlocking the screen and swiping over to the dial screen. I entered the number that she left me with and hesitantly pressed the green call button. I took a deep breath and put the phone up to my ear.  
Ring….Ring….Ring….Ring  
Then a click as someone picked up. “Agent Rusker,” a voice said. A voice that I recognized. The same three-pack-a-day timbre that was in all of my memories from my early days. My dad.   
“Erhm. Hi.” I didn’t know quite what to say. How do you introduce yourself, over the phone, to the father you hadn’t seen in over 20 years?  
“Can I help you?” he asked, annoyed.  
“Yeah. Yeah. This is Y/N.”  
There was silence for a few seconds. Just long enough to make me wonder if he had hung up.  
“Hello?” I asked.  
“Shit. Yeah. I’m here. Y/N. Shit. Y/N. I don’t even…. How are…. Where….” he tapered off, not finishing a single thought.  
“I know that hearing from me is a surprise for you. A friend of mine gave me your number. I figured, maybe it was worth a shot. Talking and such.”   
“Yeah. Yeah of course.”  
“I’ve been good. Sort of settled down, I guess. Hunting though. With two brothers. The Winchesters. We have a pretty nice place. Spend a lot of-”  
He cut me off. “You mean Sam and Dean Winchester? Those Winchesters?” His voice became louder and stern. “Yeah. Those are the ones,” I answered him.  
“Huh. Didn’t think that would be your type.”   
“Well, it’s been about 20 years since you really knew much about me. My type has kinda changed over the years,” I said, more than a little resentment packed into the words.  
“I guess I deserve that.” There was silence for a few more seconds.  
“Maybe this was a mistake. I can see that-”  
He cut me off again. “What’s say you come out and see your old man, huh? Give us a chance to start over. I’m down in Alabama right now. Outside Huntsville in Meridianville. What do you say?”  
“Maybe. I don’t know.” I wasn’t sure that starting over with my father was something I was ready for just yet. Just then, the door opened, and Sam and Dean walked in, arms full of groceries and supplies.  
“Gotta go.” I said, quickly taking the phone away from my ear and pressing End. I looked up at Sam. “Hey,” I sighed, attempting to cover the stress and nerves in my voice. They brought everything in and started putting the groceries away.  
“Hey there, Y/N,” Sam said, leaning down to plant a kiss on my lips. He began to break away, but I put my hands on either side of his head, holding him closer to me as I kissed him hard, until I wasn’t thinking about my father in the least.  
“Get a room,” Dean shouted.   
I released Sam and joined in putting everything away. When we finished, Dean grabbed his keys off of the counter and announced that he was off to the bar to go fishing. I rolled my eyes and headed over to the laptop that was sitting on the table in the kitchen.  
“Y/N?” Sam called from behind me.   
“Hmm?” I answered, turning around to face him.   
“Is everything alright? You seemed upset when we came in and that kiss, while I’m not complaining in the least, was pretty intense.” He laced his arms around my waist drawing me into him and hugging me close to his chest.  
“Yeah. I’m good. Five by five.” I told him.  
“See, whenever you say that, you aren’t ever actually good. Tell me.” The look he gave me mad me melt. No matter what, he could always look a me with that sad puppy dog face and I would cave. I’d give him anything he wanted for that look.  
“I just…I talked to my dad.”  
His eyes seemed to bug out of his head.   
“Yeah. Hannah stopped in. Gave me his number. It just has me thrown is all.”  
“What did he say?”  
“Umm. That he wants me to come see him. Start over. All that jazz. He’s in Alabama.”  
I couldn’t look him in the eyes for fear of his reaction. We hadn’t ever talked about my father much since there wasn’t much to say.  
“We could go, you know. If you wanted to.”   
“I’m not sure I want to. I’m not sure I’ll ever call or talk to him again. It’s just a lot to process, I guess. I’m not sure how I feel about it yet.”   
“Well then. I know just the thing to distract you,” he smiled as he dropped his arms to my ass, cupping each cheek firmly as he dropped his ever-talented mouth to my neck.  
“I definitely know how I feel about that.”

Part Nine  
It had been two months since I had made that call to my father. I never called him back or took him up on his offer to visit. He, however, had taken to calling me so often that I had to ditch my phone and pick up a burner. “We could always go down and see him. Get it over with. You called him, you must have some sort of feeling towards him,” Sam tried his best to help.  
“Sammy, you’re sweet. But I still don’t know how I feel about the man. I mean, he abandoned me when I was just a little kid. I had no way of taking care of myself and he just left. Didn’t even think twice about it. What kind of father is that?”  
“I get it, I do. But if you don’t go, are you going to reg-”  
“No. I’m not going to regret anything, Winchester. End of this discussion, okay? We have a job to do, remember? Let’s get back to that.”  
Sam and I had gotten wind of a case near Chicago in a college town in the far West suburbs. Some fraternity brothers all swore that their house was haunted. So much so that all 34 brothers were moving out. After a bit of research and a lot of digging, we found out about the one and only death to occur at the property. A boy, a pledge who had been trying to get into the fraternity, was going through a hazing ritual for the house. The brothers had all forced him to drink so fast and so much that he died in his sleep but in one of the most horrific ways. It had only been about ten years ago, but that was more than enough time for a spirit to become angry and vengeful.   
The second Dean heard that we would be taking a case at a college, in the middle of Greek life, he was clamoring to come with us.  
“Dude, college girls. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve had a-”?  
“Dean!” Sam snapped at him, stopping us from hearing a more than likely far too detailed description of Dean’s social exploits.  
“Okay, Dean. You can come,” I granted, his face lighting up. “But there are rules. One. I’m driving. Two. While I’m driving, it will be in my Mustang which you will sit in the backseat of and behave. And three. No fresh meant. It’s just tacky.”  
“Done. When do we leave?” He was giddy with excitement.  
“You’ve got two hours. I want to be there by sundown. There aren’t a ton of hotels nearby.”  
What that, Dean took off, happier than a kid in a candy store.  
“We could’ve taken it. Just us. You know,” Sam whispered in my ear, walking up behind me.  
“Yes, but the last time we did that, you spent so much time worried about me that a vamp knocked you out and took your weapon,” I teased, turning my head to kiss him on the cheek. “Besides. It’ll be good for him to get out.”  
We made our way to the bedroom and packed enough clothes and supplies for about two weeks, just in case. Within a little over an hour, we were all piling into my car and hitting the road, ahead of schedule.  
“This sucks. Your backseat’s so small. Baby would’ve-”  
“Deano. I love you and all but if you talk shit about my sweety here,” I caressed the dashboard, “I’ll kick your ass and you’ll be walking to Illinois.”  
Sam laughed in the passenger seat, clapping his hands as he did so. “I would pay to see that.”  
Without warning, Castiel appeared in the back seat next to Dean, shoulder to shoulder and apparently, very cramped. Okay, maybe my car wasn’t the most practical choice.  
“Cas?! What the hell, man?” Dean echoed all of our surprise.  
“I believe it is imperative that I join you,” he said, nonchalantly. We all stared at him, waiting for further explanation.  
“Y/N. You should probably start the car. The ignition is still off,” Castiel observed.  
I shook my head, more than familiar with Castiel’s inability to pick up on non-verbal cues. Starting the car, I buckled up and pulled out of the bunker, beginning our nearly 10-hour drive.  
About six hours in, we made a pit stop at a run-down gas station. I pumped the gas while Dean ran inside to grab some road food from the 24-Hour Convenience Mart inside and Sam stretched his legs near me. Castiel patiently stayed in the backseat, saying nothing.   
Dean came back outside, arms full of taquitos, hot dogs and a cup of fruit, I assumed the later was for Sam. He threw a taquito my way and I caught it. “Thanks,” I smiled. I began peeling back the wrapper while the pump kept filling when I caught a whiff of something foul. I gagged. “What the hell is that smell?” I looked at Dean.   
“Don’t look at me! I haven’t touched a bean, refried or otherwise since last taco night when you told me my ass smelled like a dead skunk mixed with Frito’s and warm trash!”   
Whatever it was, it was bad. My stomach was turning and twisting in knots. I felt my gag reflex begin to fail as I let go of the gas pump and pushed past Sam and headed for the bathroom. I got there just in time as my digestive pyrotechnics began.   
A few minutes later, after I’d done as good a job as I could with wiping my face and scrubbing my teeth, I headed back out to the car. Sam stood leaning against the driver’s side door, his arms and feet crossed as he stared at the ground, his brow furrowed. If he isn’t careful, his eyebrows are going to stay like that. “Hey,” I said, distracting him from the deep thoughts he was apparently diving into.  
“You okay?” he asked me, his voice dripping with concern. I smiled. “Yeah, I’m good. Must just have been something I ate. Let’s get back on the road.”  
“If you’re sure. But I’m driving.” His tone was determined. I had learned that tone. And I had learned that unless whatever he was arguing with me on was the mountain I was willing to die on, it was best to just let him have his way. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t roll my eyes and give him an exasperated sigh.   
I took my place in the passenger side front seat and looked behind me to Castiel and Dean. Still cramped as ever, shoulders pressed together and without a personal bubble, Dean looked miserable. Castiel, however, had the same furrowed brow as the driver and seemed to be confused. By what, he didn’t say. I turned back around and watched Sam sit in the driver’s seat and buckle his seatbelt after pushing his seat back to accommodate his legs which were much shorter than mine. I chuckled to myself as my eyes began to droop and feel heavy. I rested my head against the window and allowed myself to fall asleep.  
By the time I woke back up, we were pulling into the small, back alley parking lot of the Jane Fargo Hotel. Sam shook my arm. “Hey, sleeping beauty. We’re here. Come on, let’s get to the room and you can go back to sleep.”   
I rubbed my eyes, willing myself awake. I got out of the car and circled back to the trunk to collect my bag. “I can get that for you,” Castiel said behind me as he walked up and grabbed my duffel bag from my hand. “Thanks, Cas,” I yawned as Sam came up to me, wrapping his arm around my waist. I leaned my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes again.  
“Come on, hon. You need to stay vertical. Stay awake just until we get to upstairs to our room.”   
“Don’t wanna,” I mumbled.  
Sam began to tickle my side in an effort to get me alert. “Hey! Not fair!’ I screeched at him, jumping out of his arm and walking a few steps in front of him.  
“Yeah, but it worked, didn’t it?” He smiled that devious smile that I loved so very much.  
We made it up the room and within seconds, I was face down on one of the two beds and passed out for the night.   
* * *  
When I woke back up, it was morning. Castiel was sitting at the desk across the room, next to the large, old box television set. “Sam?” I called out.  
“He and Dean went downstairs. There’s a restaurant of some kind and they wanted breakfast. Sam said not to wake you but to watch you.”   
“Thanks, Cas. It’s not at all creepy to know you’ve been watching me sleep,” I said, sarcastically.  
“That’s good. But you know, you shouldn’t sleep on your stomach like that. You should try your side. It’s better.”   
“Thanks,” I said, taken aback by his sudden advice. “I’ll keep that in mind I guess.”   
I went to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth properly. I jumped in the shower and stood, enjoying the hot steam and relaxing, feeling as though I had been a tightly wound all of exhausted stress, even though I had gotten nearly ten hours of sleep in the last 24 hours.  
When I came back out of the bathroom, freshly washed and wrapped in my towel, Castiel was sitting on the other bed. The one I assumed Dean had slept in the night before.   
“Hot showers aren’t a good idea either, Y/N. They should be lukewarm at best, but tolerable.”  
“Thank you, guru Castiel,” I mocked, grabbing my duffel bag and running back into the bathroom to dry my hair and change into some semi-professional looking clothing.   
When I came back out, to my chagrin, Castiel was still sitting on the bed, the same pensive expression on his face as yesterday, in the car.   
“Hey, Cas. You okay?” I asked him, suddenly worried that something was wrong with our resident angel.  
“Do you not know? Is that why you’re being reckless?”  
“How am I being reckless? Sleeping on my stomach? A hot shower? That’s not really wanton behavior from a hooligan or miscreant, Cas.”  
“Then you don’t know. Of course.”  
“Okay, Castiel. You’re going to have to stop being all ominous and actually let me in on what it is I apparently don’t know.”  
“You shouldn’t be going on this hunt,” he announced.  
“Oh? And why is that, angel boy?” I was irritated and more than mildly offended at this point.  
“Because it’s bad for the baby.”

Part Ten  
“What?” I stared, my mouth gaping open at Cas.  
“It’s bad for the baby. Sleeping on your stomach or on your back can interfere with the integrity of the placenta. And as far as-”  
“Cas, I didn’t mean that. I meant what are you talking about. I’m not pregnant.”  
“Yes, Y/N. You are.”  
“No, Cas. I can’t be pregnant.”  
“You have no medical issues preventing it and the fact remains that you are. I could hear it,” he explained calmly.  
“Hear what?”  
“Its soul.”  
This was all too much for me to handle. “Cas, I need to table this discussion, okay? I need to A, find out if you’re right and B, figure out what to do. In the meantime, you won’t say a word about this to Sam or Dean, got it?”  
He nodded and I walked back over to my bed, grabbing my phone and shoving it into my pocket.  
“Woah,” Dean’s gravelly voice announced as he walked in. “Little tense in here?” he observed as I turned to face him, walking past him and out the door. “It’s nothing,” I muttered as I saw Sam step out of the elevator.  
His eyes lit up when he saw me as he smiled. “Hey honey.”  
“Hey,” I said, standing on my tip toes to give him a kiss. “I’m just running to the store quick. I’ll be back soon. Need anything?”  
“Don’t think so,” he said. “Hurry back though, okay? We have to interview some of the frat brothers today.” I nodded in agreement as I stepped into the elevator and punched the button for the lobby.  
Our hotel was smack dab in the middle of the quaint downtown area, and I knew there was a pharmacy shop just a few blocks away. I went into the back alley behind the hotel and climbed into the driver’s seat of my Mustang. I took a minute to take a few deep breaths before turning the ignition. My fingers were wrapped around the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white with my grip.   
Cas had to be wrong, right? If he wasn’t, this would ruin everything. I felt myself beginning to hyperventilate. I closed my eyes, leaned back in the chair and attempted to calm myself down. There’s nothing to freak out about yet. He could be wrong. He just got his mojo back. And it’s been a while since he had it. Maybe he just heard my stomach growl. I tried to convince myself.   
Suddenly, Castel was in the seat next to me, looking at me with a sympathetic smile. “Do you need me to drive, Y/N? In your…condition…it might not be best.”  
“I’m fine, Cas. Thank you though,” I said, sincerely.   
“Do you want me to come with you? I am not very good at moral support but I am willing to help if I can.”  
I smiled at the sometimes clueless angel. “That’d be nice.”   
We drove down the road, taking in the sites as we passed by little shops, small town banks, families riding bikes down the streets, and neighbors chatting in their front lawns. When we pulled into the parking lot for the pharmacy, I had begun to believe that maybe having a family wouldn’t be so bad. Settling down. Maybe open up a hunter’s shop. You never know. As against all of that as Sam was so many months ago, maybe, given enough time, he’d change his mind.  
I walked into the store, allowing Castiel to stay in the car. The innumerable amount of questions I could just imagine him asking already began to overwhelm me at the thought of him accompanying me inside. Making my way to the “Family Planning” section, I picked up the first pregnancy test I could find. “Early Response” it advertised. Along with a digital window that would say how many weeks along it estimated you were. That works.   
I went to the register, paid for the test, and headed back to the car and the waiting angel inside. We headed back to the hotel, back through the same charming streets, and parked in the back-alley parking lot of the Jane Fargo. “Y/N,” Cas started.  
“I’m fine, Cas. Just…” I couldn’t find the words. “I’m fine.”  
He put his hand on my shoulder, awkwardly as most of his attempts at comforting me were. I smiled. As awkward as it was, I did find comfort and solace in his expression. I took the test out of the bag, opened the box and shoved the test itself into my jeans pocket. We walked in silence to the elevator and went back up to our room where Sam and Dean were eagerly waiting for us.  
“Finally!” Dean shouted as I walked in. “Can we go now?”  
“You guys go ahead. I’m not ready and I’m not really feeling great. I’ll catch up with you later.”  
“Are you sure?” Sam looked at me, concerned. “You still sick from yesterday?”  
“I think so. I’ll be fine. Go. Start the interviews. It’ll be fine.” He looked at me suspiciously.  
“Really, hon? It’s not like you to want to take a backseat on a case.”  
“I know. Call it a moment of clarity,” I said, joking with him and attempting to assuage his concerns. “I just need some more sleep. I’ll be fine. Now go, get out of here. Before all the brothers are out of the house and there’s nobody left to talk to.”  
Sam leaned down and planted a firm kiss on my forehead. Dean was already halfway out of the door when Sam turned away from me to go. I waited for the door to close before going to the bathroom, taking out the test and promptly taking it. The directions said to wait three minutes before reading the results. Three minutes had never felt more like three hours in my entire life.  
I walked back into the main room, leaving the bathroom door open, as I tried to distract myself and let the allotted time pass. Castiel had stayed back as well, turning the television on and promptly settling on an episode of Storage Wars, a show he knew was my guilty pleasure. I sat down next to him, watching the show with him.  
“Y/N? I believe enough time has passed now. You should probably check.”   
“Right.” I got up and walked into the bathroom, listening to my heart pounding in my ears, my breath becoming short and shallow. I looked down at the digital window, a large “YES” on the top line and below it, in smaller lettering, “6-8.”   
“Shit,” I yelled.  
“Y/N? You okay?” I heard Dean’s voice as the door to the room opened. “I forgot my keys. What-” he stopped short, standing in front of me in the bathroom as his eyes dropped down to the test in my hands. His eyes grew wide and his shoulders tensed. I couldn’t speak. All I could feel was the impending sense of doom as my eyes began to water.  
“Y/N, is that what I think it is?” he asked me.  
I nodded, closing my eyes and letting the tears fall.  
“Is it positive?”  
I nodded again. Without warning, Dean wrapped his arms around me, hugging me to him as he stroked my hair and kept repeating “It’ll be okay, kiddo. It’s okay.”   
When I felt that I could breathe again and began to get my senses back, I pushed away from him. “Dean, Sam’s waiting for you. You should go.” He answered me with a worried look.  
“Go Dean. It’s fine. Just please don’t tell him. Please?” I begged him.  
“Are you going to tell him?” he asked.  
“Deano, we both know what he’d say. The same thing he’s always said. Hunters don’t get families or the American Dream. There’s no happily ever after. This isn’t anywhere close to what he wants. I don’t know. I just have to think about it. Just please promise me you won’t tell him.”   
“Okay. I won’t tell him. Just please let me know if I can help. And give him a chance. He may surprise you ya know? My brother has a way of doing that.” Dean pulled my forehead to his lips, giving me a quick and comforting peck. I smiled at him as he walked out the door and back down to his brother.  
I sat back down on the bed where Castiel had been and where he had conveniently vacated when Dean came in. I laid down, closing my eyes for a few moments and calming myself down. I didn’t have many options and all of them involved losing Sam; something I was definitely not sure I would be able to do. But when it came down to it, I knew that I didn’t have much time to decide.  
I closed my eyes again, allowing myself to get some sleep and being sure to do so while laying on my side in an attempt to appease Castiel and his incessant worrying. By the time I woke back up, Sam and Dean were back in the room pouring over the computer.  
Staring at Sam, a sad smile on my face and tears coming to my eyes again, I sat up and tossed the blanket off of me. Both of the boys looked up at me, their eyes catching mine.   
“Hey, honey. How are you feeling?” Sam asked.   
“Better.” I said, my voice dull.  
Dean stood back, giving me a knowing look. “Well, I’m going to go down to the restaurant. See if I can’t find me some pie.” Nice cover, I thought.  
Sam closed his laptop and came to sit down on the bed with me. He put his arm around my shoulders and nudged me to get me to lean back against him. I obliged.   
“Sammy?”  
“Yeah?”  
“Can I ask you something?”  
“Of course. You can ask me anything,” he said confidently.  
“When we first got together. You told me that this isn’t the sort of life where you get to have love and happiness. Hearts and flowers and families and such. Do you still feel that way?” I pried, knowing that his answer would give me my own.  
“Well. In some ways, yeah. I know it’s the truth. The only difference is now, it’s pretty obvious that love is definitely something hunters can have.” He smiled down at me.  
My breath caught in my chest. “I love you, Y/N,” he almost whispered. I smiled at him in kind. “I love you, too, Sam,” I replied, knowing that now, after admitting our feelings for each other, what I had to do was going to be a hundred times more difficult.  
“How did the interviews go?” I changed the topic.  
“They were okay. They didn’t know much but there’s one of them that wasn’t there. A super senior. Been here for seven years. Knew the guys involved. I think he could be a part of it.”  
“Well sounds like we should find him.” I said.  
“Already done. He lives in town. Moved out of the house last week and is in an apartment not too far from here. Dean and I were going to go over and chat with him. Do you mind if you stay here? I’d like you to get some more rest.”   
“Not at all. You guys go ahead and go. I’ll take care of myself,” I gave him a reassuring smile. He pulled me to him, hugging me to his chest and planting a deep and passionate kiss on my lips. One of those kisses that took my breath away and made me dizzy. He broke away and looked into my eyes, his hand coming up to brush some stray hairs out of my face. “I love you,” he said again. “I love you,” I assured him.  
With that, he got out of bed, grabbed the car keys from the table and headed out the door.   
“Goodbye, Sammy,” I whispered to the door after he had closed it behind him.  
I waited a few minutes and began to call out to Hannah, hoping harder than I ever had before that she’d hear me. She did.   
When she arrived, she looked at me with sympathetic eyes, placing her hands on my shoulders and waiting for me to speak first.  
“Castiel told you?” I inquired.  
“He didn’t have to. I knew. He just filled in the blanks. How can I help you, Y/N?” she implored.  
“I need you to do me a favor.”  
“Anything,” she promised.  
“I need you to take me somewhere. Anywhere. Just somewhere remote. And once I’m there, I need you to bring my father there. And wipe both of our memories. Change them. Do whatever you think is best. Just. Make me forget. Forget the Winchester’s. Forget that I am in love with Sam. Forget everything. Just make my father and I a big happy family.” I began to weep as the words left my mouth.  
“And the baby?” she asked, seemingly stunned.  
“I want to keep it. Just. Make up a story for me. Make up a life for me. Just, please. Do it now?”  
Hannah pulled me into her, hugging me momentarily. She looked me in the eyes and shook her head as an affirmation, accepting my request. She pressed two fingers against my forehead and when I opened my eyes again, the hotel room had faded away and I stood in unfamiliar territory.

Part Eleven  
Hannah was gone only a few seconds when she reappeared, my father standing beside her. His eyes seemed to roll around his head, his face growing pale as he bent at the knees and began breathing deeply.  
I stood there, silent. My tears had dried up and I looked at Hannah. Her eyes held such empathy and she walked toward me, not paying my father any attention.  
“Are you positive that this is what you want, Y/N?”  
“Yeah. I’m ready.”  
“Y/N?” My father stood bolt upright, his eyes locked on mine.  
“Now, Hannah,” I ordered, my eyes never leaving his as my vision went white.   
* * *  
10 Months Later  
I walked around to the front of the bar, grabbing the disinfectant and a rag as I went. We had just opened up for the day an hour ago and already there were tables in need of a good scrubbing. Making my way around the room, I sprayed and scrubbed each unoccupied table and seat.  
“I thought you were taking the day off,” my father’s deep voice called from behind the bar, a hint of a smile in his words.  
“I am, Dad. I only just came down,” I lied.  
“Uh huh. Just came down to do what? Clean the tabletops?”  
I laughed. “Yeah well, you know me!”  
“Where’s Jim?” Dad asked me, concerned.  
“Hannah’s with him upstairs. He’s been asleep the last few hours.”  
My father crossed his arms and sighed at me, disapproval emanating off of him in waves. Jimmy, or Jim as my father calls him, was my two-month-old son. It had been just my dad and I for as long as I could remember. Traveling, hunting and taking care of each other. When we found out that Jimmy was on the way, my father went full tilt into protective grandpa mode.   
We opened up our bar not too long after that. Dad said it would give us all some stability. And truth be told, I loved it. Jo’s Place was named after a childhood friend of mine. The bar was downstairs, above which were two apartments. My father lived in one and Hannah, Jimmy and I in the other.  
Hannah had been living with us for quite a while and was my closest friend. She helped me with the baby and always seemed to know when something was wrong. When I had gone into labor, she was there before I had even called her.  
I finished cleaning up just as a man walked in the front door. I hadn’t seen him here before but he looked familiar. His khaki trench coat with a suit underneath seemed so commonplace to me despite his obvious strangeness. He looked at me, his eyes serious as I walked behind the bar.  
“Dad,” I called. “Can you help this man? I’m going to go check on Jimmy.” I walked upstairs.  
I walked in the door to my apartment and gave Hannah a smile. Her typically stoic demeanor seemed off and she looked distracted.  
“Everything okay?” I asked her, stepping into the kitchen where she stood. She didn’t answer. “Hannah?” Her eyes broke contact with whatever she had been focused on and looked at me. “You okay, Hannah?”  
She smiled at me. “Yes. Jimmy’s still asleep. My mind just…. wandered.” I nodded at her. “Weirdo.”  
I made my way into the nursery and looked down at Jimmy in his crib. His eyes were beginning to open as he rubbed them with his hands and opened his mouth, whimpering.  
“Hey there, little man,” I cooed at him, reaching down and picking him up, kissing his head as I laid him on my shoulder. I laid him back down on his changing table as I began changing his diaper, his absolute least favorite activity. I tossed his pajamas in the hamper and dressed him in his “Jo’s Place” onesie. As I picked him back up, the front door opened.  
“Y/N?” My dad almost whispered.  
“Coming. Jimmy’s awake, you can talk like a grown up.”  
“You’re so witty. Ha ha,” my dad said facetiously. “That guy in the trench coat downstairs? He says he’s a friend. Wants to talk to you.”  
“Okay. We’ll be right down.” Jimmy was cooing against my shoulder as he began bouncing his head against me.  
“Maybe you should leave him with me,” Hanna said, a touch of panic in her voice.  
“That’s okay,” I reassured her. “He needs to eat anyway, and I have some freshly pumped bottles downstairs.”  
I opened the door and followed my father back downstairs, grabbing a bottle from Jimmy’s diaper bag on the way.   
The man from earlier sat in the back-corner booth, his eyes on me and a stern expression on his face. “That’s the one,” my father affirmed.  
I took a seat beside him, laying Jimmy in my arms and giving him his bottle. He wasn’t quite strong enough to hold it on his own yet, so I held it up for him, smiling down at his deep green eyes and contented face.  
“Y/N?” the man said.  
“Yep, that’s me. But I believe you have me at a disadvantage. What’s your name?”  
“You call me Cas.”  
“I think you might be mistaken. I don’t know you.”  
The man looked at me for a few seconds, his eyes misty. “I’m sorry to disturb you. I thought you might remember. I’m a friend of Hannah’s.”  
“Oh, Hannah! Yeah, she’s just upstairs, I’ll call her down.” I stood up and made my way to the bar, grabbed the phone and dialed Hannah’s number. No answer. I turned to walk back to the booth, surprised to see Hannah already there. Her and the man, Cas, looked to be in a rather heated discussion, one I wasn’t sure I should be involved in.   
Cas kept looking over at me and down to Jimmy, that same sad look on his face. I decided that I was allowed to hear whatever they were arguing about.  
“Sam has been searching for her, non-stop. Do you know what havoc you have wrought?” he chastised her.  
“Castiel, she asked for this. I did no different than you would have. And she made this decision for him. Not to spite him.” Hannah stood her ground.  
I walked over to them, Jimmy nestled on my shoulder, burping away.  
“Y/N!” Hannah startled. Cas sighed deeply as he raised his hand towards me, slowly, his middle and index fingers outstretched. I felt Hannah wrap her hands around Jimmy as Cas pressed his fingers against my forehead.  
“What the hell?” I screamed out as my vision went white.   
* * *  
10 months prior  
“Y/N?” Sam called, his voice echoing in the empty hotel room. He was panicked. Dean was hot on his heals, coming in the door just seconds after Sam had.  
“Is she here?” Dean asked, looking around the room.  
“No,” Sam breathed, sorrow stabbing him through the chest. “Where would she have gone?”  
“I don’t know, man.” Dean replied.  
Sam held up a small box that he’d found in the car. The box that had caused him to begin to worry in the first place and to begin imagining that his worst fears were about to come true.   
“Dean. If you know where she is, you’ve got to tell me. If you know anything about this,” he held the box up, waving it in Dean’s face, accusatory, “you need to tell me.”  
“Sammy, I swear. I told you what I know. I came back up to get the keys. She was in the bathroom with the test in her hands, damn near tears, talking about how this isn’t what you wanted. I told her to tell you. That’s all!”  
“Why would she leave? And without her car. We have the mustang, her bike’s back at the bunker. Where would she go?”  
Sam tore back out of the hotel room and ran down the stairs to the lobby, pushing his way out the back door. He began walking around town, looking for any sign of her, any hint that she had been nearby. But there was nothing.   
Dean sat in the hotel room, yelling for Castiel until he finally showed up.  
“Cas, I know you were here with Y/N. You need to tell me where she went. Sam’s losing it.”  
Castiel stared at Dean, confused. “I left when you came in. I have not been back. She was still here.”  
“Find her. Anything you can do, do it. Call in favors, just…. Find her.”  
And with that, Castiel was gone and Dean left to go chase his brother down.  
* * *  
The Day Before Castiel’s Arrival at Jo’s Place  
“Dean?” Castiel’s voice rang out in the bunker.   
“In here,” Dean answered from the table in the library.  
“Are you doing research?” Castiel asked, taken aback by the site of Dean at the laptop, his eyes transfixed on the screen.   
“Sort of. I’m trying to check traffic cameras. Anything that might get a glimpse of Y/N. Sam hasn’t left his room in weeks, hasn’t eaten anything in days. I don’t know what’s going to happen if we can’t find her soon.”  
Castiel walked up to the table and pulled the chair next to Dean out. “I found her.”  
“What?” Dean asked, incredulously.   
“She’s at a bar just outside of Springfield, Missouri. She runs it. With her father.”  
“How did you find this all out? You’re sure it’s her?”  
“I called in a few favors from Heaven. Yes, I’m sure.”  
“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go.”  
“Dean-”  
“No, Cas. Whatever you’re about to say or suggest, the answer’s no. The plan now is to go grab my brother, throw him in the car, and get him to wherever she is. I don’t care about anything else.”  
“Dean, Hannah’s with her. There might be more to this than we know.”  
Dean stared at Castiel, his face determined and hard. “I’m going to go get Sam. I’ll give him some bullshit about a case, and I’ll get him in the car. And then we’re going. And you’re coming with us. Are you in?”  
“Yes. Of course.”  
Dean walked towards Sam’s room feeling uneasy. No way finding Y/N was this simple. Something was bound to jump up and bite them in the ass.

Part Twelve  
I kept my eyes shut, years of memories bombarding my mind, and innumerable emotions overtaking me. I squeezed my eyelids together as hard as I could, trying my best to keep breathing as tears ran down my cheeks.  
As I remembered growing up in foster home after foster home, the false memories of being raised by my doting father began to disappear. I watched myself buying my mustang, driving aroudn the mountains of Colorado, moving all over the country. I remembered the cold hard feel of my Kimber. Meeting Hannah, an angel as I now remembered her. I remembered Sam, a pang of intense guilt mixed with heartbreak and overwhelming love surging through me. Meeting Dean and Castiel. My first hunt. And my last. I could recall the drop in my gut the day I stood in the hotel room, staring down at my positive pregnancy test, being interrupted by Dean, and subsequently begging Hannah to wipe all of my memories away.  
The past ten months rushed through my mind. All of those memories built on lies. My father and my relationship with him was just a story; a fairy tale. I gasped as I remembered Jimmy’s birth. I had stared into his little cherubic face, not recognizing how much of Sam was there. How much of his father was there.  
My eyes snapped open, a downpouring of tears falling from them. I gasped, my stomach suddenly feeling as if it were in my throat, choking me. My lungs were working overtime and I could feel that I was on the edge of hyperventilating. My palms were cold and clammy, but my face was on fire and dripping with sweat. I wanted to scream, run, cry, explode and curl up into a ball all at the same time. Every part of me was in pain but none more than my heart.  
“Hannah,” I gasped. “Take Jimmy upstairs.” I managed to ask between shallow breaths as I made a run for the back door, passing by my father who was coming downstairs. He called my name, but I ignored him, running for the back parking-lot and jumping into my bright red Mazda CX-9. “Only the safest for my grandson,” my father had said when he bought it for me. No, he didn’t. I remembered. It was all a lie.  
I punched the dashboard in front of me, screaming barbarically as I tried to unleash every ounce of my frustration, anger, loss and confusion. I felt, more than heart, a body appear in the passenger seat next to me.  
“I’m sorry,” Castiel said sincerely. “But you needed to remember.”  
I shrugged as I allowed my body to be racked with sobs. “I can put it all back as it was. Erase the past and give you back to this life. If that is what you want,” he offered.  
“I don’t know,” I whimpered. “Maybe?” There wasn’t a single drop of determination or decisiveness in my voice. I dropped my head in my hands, concentrating on evening out my breathing and stopping my tears. I flipped down the visor and looked in the mirror, wiping my cheeks and bloodshot eyes of tears. I took a last long deep breath as I closed the visor and glanced in the rearview mirror, Jimmy’s car seat catching my eye.  
“What about Jimmy? Did I ruin his memories, too?”  
“Ruin? You haven’t ruined anything, Y/N. He remembers his life as it has been. There has never been anyone meddling in his mind,” Castiel reassured me.  
“And my father?”  
“That matter is more complicated. Should you ask me to put these past months back and erase everything before then, his mind will remain his own. Should decide to stay this way, knowing the truth and remembering all of it, then that is up to you. He can continue being the loving father you’ve created, or he can go back to how he was before.”  
“Absent and estranged?” I offered. “Do I have to decide all of this now?” I asked pleadingly.  
“No,” he answered.  
“Good,” I paused. “Where is he?” Castiel looked at me, his head cocked like a bewildered puppy.  
“Sam,” I said, his name sending chills through me. “Where is he?”  
“A few miles away. At a motel. The Cheshire Inn.”  
I opened my door and made my way back into the bar. Hannah was rocking Jimmy and humming to him. Serenaded by an angel. She looked up at me, fear and doubt across her face. I smiled, wrapping one arm around her in a hug and whispered, “Thank you, for everything.” I released her, putting my hands out in order to hold Jimmy. She obliged, placing him in my hands as he cooed and smiled at me.  
I grabbed his diaper bag from behind the bar making sure there were enough bottles, diapers, wipes ad changes of clothes for him. “I’ll be back later,” I called behind me as we sauntered out back to my car.  
Jimmy was in his seat, comically grabbing at the lions and frogs that hung above his head. I giggled at him and turned on the engine. Castiel was still in the passenger seat. “Lead the way,” I nudged him.  
The next ten minutes felt like hours. We finally pulled into the parking lot where I instantly recognized Dean’s Impala. “Perhaps I should go in ahead and prepare them,” Castiel surmised.  
“Don’t tell them we’re here yet. Just…. tell them what happened. And see if they still want to see me. See us.” He nodded and was gone instantly. I reached in back to check on Jimmy and saw that he was already asleep. He always did love a good car ride. 

Inside the Motel Room  
Castiel opened the door softly, unsure of the reception his news was about to receive. “Dean?” He called.   
“Cas?” Dean called, coming out of the bathroom, drying his hands on a rag. “You find her?”  
“It’s…. complicated. Where’s Sam?” Castiel asked, looking around the room.  
“He’s passed out in the car. I couldn’t get him to wake up and get inside, but he wasn’t having it.”  
Castiel groaned.  
“What?” Dean asked.  
“That is not ideal. I did find Y/N. She was in fact at the bar I had heard of. Jo’s Place. She owns it with her father. But…Dean…there’s much more we did not know.”  
“What, Hannah’s not with her?”  
“Hannah is with her. However, not how we had thought.”  
“Woah, you telling me they’re…together together? Kinky.”  
Castiel shook his head, dismissing the idea. “Dean. Y/N didn’t remember any of us. Nothing. She had Hannah wipe her memory. Every trace of any of us was gone. She had her memories replaced. She’s spent the last ten months living with her father and Hannah as if we’d never existed.”  
Dean’s mouth stood open. “Shit.”   
“I’ve restored her memories. She knows the truth but, Dean. She may very well decide that she wants it all wiped away again. At this time, she’s out in the parking lot, in her car thinking of what to do.”  
“She’s out there? Right now? Cas, why didn’t you OPEN with that information?!” Dean shouted, throwing down his rag and storming out the front door. 

Back in the Parking Lot  
A few minutes had passed since Castiel had gone. I had spent that time trying to figure out what I would do. I was a mother now and every decision I made effected Jimmy and would for the rest of his life. Was it fair to him to keep his father and uncle out of his life? No matter the lifestyle they lead, couldn’t we protect him from that? But then again, he’s spent the first two months of his life with his grandfather in a safe, stable and loving home. Wasn’t that something he deserved?  
In the midst of my thoughts, a foul odor began to waft up to me from the backseat. “Oh, Jimmy. What did you do?” I unbuckled my seat belt and got out of the car, opening the back door and picking up my son. “Woah, stinky. Let’s change you.”   
I picked up the diaper bag from the foot well in the backseat and laid out the changing pad on the seat, laying Jimmy down and setting to the task at hand. He woke up as soon as I had begun to clean him up, screaming and wailing. I finished changing him and placed him back in my arms, resting on my shoulder, bouncing gently and walking in circles next to the car as I sang to him. Lavender’s blue, dilly dilly, lavender’s green. When I am king, dilly dilly, you shall be queen.  
He settled down quickly, always seeming to be soothed when I sang him the lullaby I had grown up with. Well. That I had thought I had grown up with at least. I finished my song, holding him up in the air and smiling at him, eliciting a small chuckle that grew by the second.  
“Y/N?” I heard my name yelled across the parking lot. I glanced in the direction it had come from, catching site of the Impala, and a face looking out at me from the back window.   
“Sam,” I breathed, bringing Jimmy back to my chest and hugging him there as I watched Sam fumble with the door and pile out of the car, nearly running towards me. His eyes were sunken in, his face ragged and rough with stubble. He looked so very unwell.  
I walked towards him, unsure of what my reception would be. “Sam,” I barely said his name before he was reaching for me, for us. He put one hand behind my head, pulling me to him like he used to and pushing his lips against mine. I returned the kiss, remembering how wonderful it felt to lose myself in him. He broke away from me quickly, his breathing jagged and tears pooling in his eyes.   
“Hi,” I said, impishly.   
He looked down at the ground, his hands now on his hips. “You left,” he states simply.   
“I know. I’m so….so sorry.” I could hardly believe how small and weak I felt.  
“Why?” He asked, looking up to Jimmy, his small arms reaching out towards Sam’s long hair.  
“I did it for you,” I admitted, his eyes shooting back up to mine as he put his pointer finger into Jimmy’s hand.  
“You didn’t want this,” I gestured to Jimmy. “A family. Settling down. It wouldn’t have been fair of me to make you choose. You had to -”  
“I would’ve chosen you,” he interrupted me, stone faced.  
“You don’t know that.”   
“I do. I know I would’ve chosen you. Both of you. Y/N, do you know what hell I’ve been through? How much torture I would’ve rather survive than having to have even gone a day without you? Lucifer’s cage was nothing compared to this.”  
“Sam,” I looked down, tears forming in my eyes again. I felt Sam place his hand under my chin, tilting my face back up towards him.   
“I’ve never stopped loving you, Y/N.” He kissed me gently then, leaning his forehead against mine after we broke away.   
“I love you, Sam. I’m so sorry. I wish I could take it all back. I didn’t know. I didn’t think.” I began to fall apart, my eyes overwhelmed with tears and my breath becoming harder and harder to catch.  
Dean and Castiel walked over to us. “Well I guess you two are working things out then?” Dean said, smiling and laying his hand on my shoulder.  
“Hey, Deano,” I said warmly as he smiled back at me.  
“So, does that mean you won’t be asking Hannah or Cas here to wipe your mind again?” Dean teased.  
“What? Wipe your what?” Sam said, shocked.  
I looked back at him and shrugged, my smile fading as Jimmy began to whine. “It was the only way I knew I wouldn’t fall apart. Or stay and ruin everything for you.”  
Sam put his hand on my cheek, tucking my hair back behind my hair. “Don’t leave. Ever again,” he pleaded with me.  
“Okay,” I agreed.  
“Promise?” Sam looked into my eyes.   
“I promise,” I said sincerely.  
“Can I hold him?” Sam asked, gesturing to Jimmy.  
“Of course,” I handed Jimmy over to him, making sure he knew to support his head. “Daddy,” I smiled up at him as he bumped his forehead against mine again and Jimmy yanked on his hair.

Part Thirteen  
Jimmy had tugged at Sam’s hair, drooled all over his shirt, and giggled at the absolutely ridiculous faces his father had made at him before slowly but surely falling asleep in Sam’s arms.  
We had gone inside, into the motel room without saying much else. Dean paced at the foot of the bed attempting to hide just how badly he wanted to hold his nephew. Castiel had left almost as soon as he and Dean had joined us in the parking lot.  
Sam and I laid on the bed, the hand not holding Jimmy firmly wrapped around the inside of my thigh as I laid on my side next to him, my eyes beginning to droop. “Honey,” I heard him whisper. It warmed my heart. I opened my eyes to find Sam’s rich hazel ones staring at me, a smile plastered on his face. “Let’s go home,” he said, contented.  
“Good idea,” I acquiesced. “I need to close up tonight anyway.” I stretched my legs and raised my arms above my head, getting ready to stand up. Sam stared at me; his brow furrowed. How I missed that furrow. “I meant to the bunker.”  
“Oh,” I responded, surprised and slightly taken aback. I hadn’t begun to consider that.  
I pulled my hair out of my ponytail and began running my fingers through it nervously. It must have grown a foot while I was pregnant and I loved playing with it, even if it was a crutch.  
Sam looked over at Dean and glanced down at Jimmy, holding our son out to his brother. Dean reluctantly but happily took him in his arms, cradling him with care. Jimmy had begun to stir in the hand off but Dean, like a pro, began singing “Hey Jude” and lulled him back to sleep. He opened a door that I hadn’t noticed before and motioned with his head that he would be in the conjoined room.  
Then I started pacing, trying to prepare myself for the onslaught of decisions that were to come. Sam stayed put, sitting on the bed with his back to me, his entire body tensing up and radiating stress again. I stood still, bringing my hands down and out of my hair, clenching them together in front of my mouth. “So, what do we do here?” I asked him, hoping he would have already come up with a brilliant plan that would let us all have the best of both worlds.   
I watched Sam slowly stand up. He ran his hands through his hair tightly, pulling on the ends as he turned to look at me before admitting, “I don’t know.” I could feel tears threatening to well in my eyes again and I could see them in his.   
“Come back to the bar with me. We have the room. Hannah’s a freaking angel and now that I remember that, she probably doesn’t actually need to live with us. We could run it together,” I offered, more hope in my voice than I actually felt.  
Sam looked at me. “You know I can’t do that.” My face drooped as my heart fell, my chest aching with impending loss. “It’s not who I am. Moving around. Hunting things. Starting and stopping the apocalypse. Fighting demons. Hunting. That’s what I do. What we do.”  
“Sam,” I hesitated. “It isn’t what I do anymore. I stay up all night while Jimmy cries and eats and occasionally sleeps. I run a bar for a good chunk of the day and evening while worrying about my son even though he’s just upstairs. I’m a mom. That’s what I do now.”   
He didn’t say anything. His eyes that had moments ago been locked on mine seemed to have faded and were now looking through me. “It won’t work, will it?” he said.  
“We can make it work,” I said, trying to convince us both. “Y/N. It won’t. You’re a mom. I’m a hunter. I don’t get to be a dad or a husband or…anything else.” His voice held such sorrow. Regret.  
“Don’t say that, Sam. We already spent way too much time apart. We can make this work. I know we can.”  
“How? Every other weekend? Holidays? I’ll swing by if I’m in the area?”  
“You say that like we’re going through a divorce and fighting over custody,” I said, anger seeping through my sadness.  
“For all intents and purposes…” he began. “I’m already a deadbeat dad. Why not just make it official?”  
“Sam, don’t say that. You aren’t-”  
“You’re right, I’m not a deadbeat dad. I didn’t even know I had a son. Sure, I knew you were pregnant since I found that damn empty box in the car and since Dean is incapable of lying to me when it counts. But hell, Y/N. You just left! You left and made this insane plan to just delete me from your life without even asking me or giving me the opportunity to be there!” His voice was rising along with his anger.  
“What was I supposed to do, Sam? You spent so many months convincing yourself to not even be with me to begin with because you couldn’t settle down and have a family. The day I left, I even asked you about it and you told me the same! What was I going to do, stick around and make you resent me for it? You know I couldn’t have done that to you, Sam! You know I love you too much to do that,” I yelled back at him.  
“You were supposed to let me in on it at least! Maybe tell me that I was going to be a father. Tell me that you were going to leave. Hell, you could’ve at least given me a chance to fight for you!”  
“You had months to fight for me, Sam! The entire time we were together and almost a year since!”  
“Are you kidding me? Almost a year since? Tell me, Y/N. How was I supposed to fight for you in that time when you didn’t know who I was and I had no idea where you were?!”  
“I haven’t moved in ten months, Sam. You can find a case or a hunt without a problem, the proverbial needle in a haystack at times, but you’re telling me you couldn’t find a single stationary person given close to year to search? I bought a freaking bar, Sam! It would have taken you half a second to find me with a property search and you know that.” My voice was beginning to return to normal, lowering as I was hit a sudden unpleasant realization. “You didn’t even look, did you?”  
Sam stared at me, bewildered. Seconds passed before he said anything. “I looked for you every day. Every second until a few weeks ago. Until I gave up and assumed you didn’t want to be found.”  
I dropped my head with a chortle. “And now that I’m here. Now that you’ve got me back. What are we going to do?”  
“You tell me,” he said, defeated.  
“I’ve made a life here. I own Jo’s Place and love running it. My father…that’s complicated now I guess. But the bunker is home to me, too.”  
Sam chuckled. “The girl without a home now has too many. Go figure.”  
I looked away from him, tears dropping from my eyes as my lids became too full of them to continue holding back. “That was low.” I turned my back to him, walking over to the desk. I picked up the pen and the Cheshire Inn stationary that sat there. I quickly scrawled my phone number and the address to Jo’s Place down, leaving it on top of his laptop at the desk, before wiping my eyes and turning back to face him.  
“We should go,” I managed to get the words out.  
“Where are we going?” he asked, walking back towards me from his place by the bed.  
“Jimmy and I. We need to go. You need to do whatever it is you think you need to do. But for now, it’s almost time for Jimmy to eat again, I have to close up the bar for the night, and you and I both have a lot of thinking to do.” I headed for the conjoined room, but Sam stepped in front of me, putting his hands on my arms.  
“Why do I feel like you’re saying goodbye? Like I’m never going to see you again,” he asked, a pained expression on his face.   
“It’s not goodbye, Sammy. It’s just….” I didn’t have an answer.  
“No,” he said, anger and a hint of desperation flowing through his voice again. “I just got you back and now I’m going to lose you again? I can’t, Y/N,” he pressed his soft lips against mine. “I won’t. I won’t survive it again.” His lips were back on me, one of his arms now wrapped around my waist and the other behind me, his hand at my neck pulling me ever closer to him. I whimpered, my voice quivering with need and anticipation. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I told myself that we should stop. That this wasn’t going to make things any less complicated. But Sam’s lips pressed against mine, his tongue eagerly dancing with my own, made me forget my doubts and the drawbacks.

“Tell me this doesn’t feel right to you?” he dared. I said nothing, but put one of my hands against his chest, feeling his heart beat intensely, as I wrapped my other hand in his hair, pulling his mouth back to mine. He led me backwards to the bed before nudging me into the end of it, my knees bending as he slowly crawled towards me, effectively laying me down in the process.  
His hands found the button and the zipper to my jeans and easily rid me of them before I could notice. He leaned back, pulling me up to a sitting position along with him as he slid my shirt above my head. I watched him lean back into me, trailing kisses down the side of my neck to the front of my chest, kissing each nipple as he sensuously freed them from the cups of my bra. He reached behind me, deftly unclasping it and throwing it to the side of the bed.   
Sam crawled down my body, leaving a trail of kisses and wet skin where his tongue had been. When he got to my apex, he gently and slowly licked my clit, sending jolts through me as his fingers entered me. He worked me over, his tongue quickly encouraging my orgasm as his fingers slid easily in and out of me, bringing me to my mind shattering climax. As I came down from my high, I sat back up, forcing him to stand in front of me while I made short work of his own clothing.   
His eyes glistened as he watched me undress him, his hands tangled in my hair as I pulled down his pants and pushed his shirt sleeves down and off of him. He laid back down on top of me, his lips ravenously kissing and nipping at my own as he slowly and completely filled me. I groaned, relishing in the fullness of him. He brought his lips back down to mine, never letting them part as he moved within me, grinding and circling his hips as I built up to yet another orgasm.  
We both stilled, each enjoying the feeling of the others climax and satisfaction. Sam’s lips backed away from my own as he pressed his forehead against mine. “I love you,” he whispered to me. “I love you, and I love making love to you. You can never know how much I’ve missed you.”  
I smiled at him, the reality of our situation creeping it’s way back into the forefront of my mind. “I love you, Sam. But we both know that the love and the making love has never been our problem,” I admitted, sliding out from under him and heading to the bathroom. I quickly stepped into the shower, needing to clean off and hopefully find some clarity. Within seconds, Sam was joining me, the washcloth in his hand already soaking up the warm water as he put some soap in it and began cleaning me.   
“Y/N,” he began. “I meant what I said. I can’t lose you again. I can’t lose either of you,” he said, placing a kiss on my shoulder from behind me as he continued to rub the soapy cloth down my back. “What’s that saying? If you love something, set it free. Let it go. Something like that?”  
“Are you saying you want to let me go?” I asked, my heart preparing to break as my breath became tight and my chest ached.  
“No. Not at all. I just meant, you did go. You were free. And you came back. That has to count for something right?”  
I turned to face him, giving him the smile I knew he needed. “Right,” I conceded.  
“Good. Then we can figure the rest out. It’s really just logistics.”  
“What, you mean like the 7-hour drive from here to the bunker?”   
He rolled his eyes at me. “What are you going to do about your dad?” he asked, his face serious again.  
“I don’t know. I haven’t even begun to deal with that Mt. Everest of emotions.”   
“Well, what if he ran the bar full time, and you handle the back-end stuff. Work remote or something.”  
“That could work I guess.”  
His eyes began to light up again, hope resonating throughout him. “That way, I could still take cases, you could come back home to the bunker, and Jimmy wouldn’t need day care or anything. You could stay home with him. Or Dean could or Cas. We could figure it out. Schedule it.”  
“Sammy, I do-”   
He cut me off. “Just say you’ll think about it,” he pleaded as he brought his lips back to mine, drawing me closer to him again in that way that made me forget everything else around me.  
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll think about it.” 

Part Fourteen  
I stepped out of the shower, dried off and began collecting my clothes that had somehow been strewn all over the room. Dressing myself slowly, deep in thought, I attempted to figure out a solution to the situation I’d found myself in. I threw my still wet hair up into a tight bun.  
Leaving Sam still in the shower, I opened the door to the adjoining room as quietly as I could. I looked up to see Dean sitting on the bed, Jimmy nestled in his arm as Dean blew raspberries at him and tickled his belly. I could hear Jimmy’s soft coos and knew he was smiling lovingly up at his cuncle.  
I took a few steps towards the bed, closing the door behind me. “Time to go,” I said, my voice high pitched and calm. Dean looked up at me.  
“Well, it sounded like that went well,” he teased, cocking an eyebrow at me. I rolled my eyes. “You coming back home then?” Dean said, excitedly, as he looked down at Jimmy.  
“That’s…complicated. Lots of details to work out,” I retorted, crossing my arms and walking up to him, quickly and carefully plucking Jimmy from his arms.   
“For now,” I said, raising Jimmy into the air at face level, “I’m taking this little guy back to my place to eat and get some tummy time while I close the bar.” My voice was animated and exaggerated, eliciting giggles and cos from Jimmy.  
“We can come meet you back there. Maybe help talk through some of the details.” Dean was reaching and I assumed the reason why was the little guy in my arms. “Oh Deano,” I sighed. “Raincheck?” I asked, feeling guilty. His eyes gave away his hurt. “Yeah, yeah. Of course,” he smiled.  
I gave Dean a quick hug, allowing him to linger a second or two longer than he normally would have, before going out the door and walking to my car. I fastened Jimmy into his seat, noticing the down turned corners of his lips that usually signaled that an all out crying fit was pretty imminent. “Just a few minutes, peanut,” I soothed him, closing the back door and hoping into the driver’s seat. I stole a glance back towards the motel room as I started up the car and pulled out of my spot, noticing Sam opening the door to his room and watching me drive away, a smile on his face.  
By the time I pulled into the parking lot behind Jo’s Place, the baby had already begun to cry. His hungry cry, I immediately identified. I took him out of his car seat and grabbed the diaper bag before closing the car back up and arming the alarm. We walked in through the backdoor, coming through the storeroom and into the bar from the hallway just next to the bathrooms. I set the diaper bag down on one of the stools at the bar and headed upstairs with Jimmy, getting ready to feed him.  
“Y/N?” My father came around the far side of the bar, wiping it as he did so.   
“Yeah. Hey…Dad.”  
“Where did you go? I’ve been worried, are you alright? Who was that man?”  
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just need to feed Jimmy.” I passed by my father without making eye contact with him and walked up the stairs to my apartment. I couldn’t make sense of how I was feeling towards him. I remembered everything now. Both the truth and the fantasy. In reality, he had abandoned me. He had left me alone without so much as a second thought and I grew up in such horrific settings because of it. But the made-up world, the one that I’d been living in for close to a year now felt real too. The one where my father stayed with me. Where my father loved me, cared for me, and was there for me throughout everything. But I couldn’t decide between the two. Not yet at least.

I sat down in my gliding chair in Jimmy’s room and began to nurse him before he got to an inconsolable state. He ate, peacefully while I racked my brain trying to figure out what to do. Hannah peaked into the nursery, interrupting my thoughts. “Hey,” she seemed different, scared. Almost mousey and very un-Hannah like.  
Giving her a reassuring smile, I told her to come in. She took a seat on the top of the toy chest that Jimmy had but was still far too small to even begin to play with. Her hands were clasped in front of her, a worried, pensive expression on her face.   
“Everything’s okay, Hannah. I’m not mad. I’m just weighing my options. You and me? We’re fine. Stop worrying.” I did my best to assuage her doubts.  
“Oh, I’m not worried about that,” she said point blank.  
“Then what?” I asked her.  
“I’m worried about you want to do now. Wiping yours and your father’s memories? I had a difficult enough time doing it the first time, morally that is. I’m not sure I would be willing to do it again,” she confessed, dropping her gaze to the taupe colored carpet.  
“Don’t worry, Hannah. I wouldn’t ask that of you. I don’t even know if that’s what I want. I know it was the best choice then and I am beyond grateful to you for doing it. But now? The right call isn’t so clear cut.”  
“What options are you considering then?” She asked. “I may be able to offer some insight.”  
“Well,” I laid my head back against the chair. “Castiel did offer to wipe the memories again. To basically erase the Winchester’s and put me back where I was before he showed up and essentially reintroduced us. And believe me, that’s tempting. Having Jimmy around them while they’re hunting? Or if I were to hunt? I can’t imagine that being good for him and I can’t envision a future that doesn’t end far before it should,” I hadn’t said those words out loud until now and I began to recognize the truth in them.  
“Or?” she prompted.  
“Or, I can go back with the Winchester’s. Jimmy could have his father, something he’s going to definitely need growing up. I could be with Sam, which now that everything’s back to how it was, I can’t imagine my life without him again. But that would mean leaving the bar. Leaving my father. And that’s a whole other can of worms I haven’t even begun to pry open yet.”  
“Why can’t you have a bit of both?” she asked as if it weren’t obvious.  
“Dad doesn’t even know about all of this. If I go back with the Winchester’s, I’m abandoning him just as he actually did me. And no matter what, I don’t want to become that. But if I stay here, Sam and Dean will be gone. Sure, I may see them once a month or so, but that would never be enough. Not enough for me and certainly not enough for Jimmy.”   
“If you stay here….at Jo’s, would you keep your memories as they are now, or would you want Castiel or myself to remove them?”  
“Hannah, I don’t even know. I could never ask you to do that again and I don’t want to put Cas in that spot either. And I’m not sure I want to forget anything. At least now, I know who Jimmy’s father is. I know that I love him. And I know what’s real. No matter what, I think I’d like to hold onto that.”  
Hannah looked up at me, sympathy and warmth in her eyes. “What would you do, Hannah?”   
She looked at me, bewildered. “I do not know. These feelings that you have, the situation you’re in. It’s all very human, something that I have never been. But if you truly want to know my thoughts on it. I have seen you suffer, Y/N. Suffering of any sort is unkind and cruel. And the amount of pain you were going through when you asked me to erase your memories. The same suffering that I see in your eyes now at just the thought of it. To me, it says that you would never cease to be in a perpetual state of turmoil should you allow Sam Winchester out of your life again.”   
I chuckled. “You know, you’re probably right.”   
By that time, Jimmy had finished eating, and had fallen asleep as he usually did at night right after feeding. I laid him down in his crib, covered him up with his flannel blanket, and turned out the light as Hannah and I walked out of the room. I went into the kitchen, picking my cellphone up off of the counter and unplugging it from the charger. Fourteen texts and seven missed calls. All from my father. I let out a conflicted sigh, beginning to pry open the can of worms that was my father at the moment.  
“Then, there’s Dad.” Hannah placed a comforting hand on my back, attempting to settle me down and give me support.  
“Would it be possible to maybe…mix the two pasts and make a new one?” I asked her, hope clinging to my every word.  
“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” she answered.  
“Well, say I do decide to go with the Winchester’s. Go back to the bunker. Would you or Castiel be able to reset my father? Make it so that he didn’t remember abandoning me? Maybe, instead, he never did leave me. And maybe after he found out he was going to be a grandfather, he opened this bar. Stopped hunting. Got a stable life together. Could we do that?”  
“If that is what you truly want, then yes. But you would need to be sure.”  
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. I walked over to it, unlocking it and pulling the door open. My father stood at the doorway, his face ashen and pale.  
“I-I…I abandoned you.” he stuttered. “I left. You were so little. So young. And I…I-I left. I just left.”   
My eyes must have been popping out of my head with surprise and I was at a loss for words. “Dad?” I asked.  
“I remember. I left. I went on a hunt. A-and I found your….your mother. And I didn’t go back. I left you there. I just…. I…. I just…”  
“Dad, how do you remember that? Was someone here?”  
His eyes snapped up to mine, ache and regret visible in him. “I just do.” I looked over at Hannah, hoping for an explanation. She shrugged at me, shaking her head and looking as clueless as I felt.   
“I do not know,” she stated. “Maybe the stress. Maybe he overheard something that triggered it. This was not me, nor was it Cas.”   
We both looked at my father. “Wait,” I said, shaking my head. “You found my mother? That’s why you left me?”  
He nodded slowly. “She was with this coven,” his words came out slowly. “Witches. Worshipped some demon. I didn’t even know they were there. And then. She just was. And I. I couldn’t leave her. And she was just so angry. And…” His words tapered out.   
“Dad,” I said, retaking his attention. “Dad come on. Talk to me. What happened?”   
“This demon. She loved him. Said he was her family. That you and me. We weren’t important. That if I knew what was good for you, I’d leave you, too. Convinced me. She was convincing. So convincing,” his attention wavered again until I grabbed a hold of his face and brought his line of sight back to me. “She told me to leave you. And I did. I left you. I left.”  
“So it was what, a spell?” I asked, desperately looking at Hannah.  
“It does sound like a spell of some kind, yes. And it would explain why even the angels could never find your mother. If she was under a demon’s protection, we might not have been able to find her.”   
“Dad?” I said, noticing his abrupt silence as he stood in front of me, mindlessly shaking his head and wringing his hands.  
“Y/N, I believe he may be in shock.”  
“Erase it, Hannah. Erase it all. Make it like I said. He opened the bar to get ready to be a grandpa. He never left me. None of that ever happened. I want every memory of that to be gone.”  
She nodded her head curtly, as she took a step closer to him, placing either hand on either side of his head. A bright light seemed to glow from the bottom of Hannah’s palm, reflecting off of my father’s face. Within minutes, he was standing in front of me seemingly asleep.  
“You should get him to his bed. He’ll wake up without remembering any of this. But we’ll need to move quickly,” she told me.  
I picked my cell phone back up and dialed Sam’s number, hoping that he hadn’t changed it since I left.  
Pick up, pick up, pick up I chanted, willing Sam to answer.  
“Hello?” a very drowsy voice answered the phone.  
“Sammy?”  
“Y/N? Are you okay?” He was suddenly very alert.  
“I need you.”

Part Fifteen  
“I’ll be right there,” Sam said before hanging up. I shoved my phone back into my rear pocket, taking hold of my father’s shoulders as I did so.  
“Come on, Dad. Let’s get you to bed.” I guided him through the doorway, his eyes still closed and seemingly unaware of what was going on around him, but his legs still moved. Hannah stayed ahead of us, opening first my front door, then his across the hall as I slowly urged him through his house and back into his bedroom. Once there, I sat him down on his bed, removed his shoes and socks and laid him down, effectively tucking my father in for the night.   
Once I was sure that was soundly asleep and in no danger, I left his apartment, locking the door behind me. Taking a deep breath, I opened my door and headed straight for the linen closet, picking up the two duffel bags that I had shoved in there when we had moved in. I went into Jimmy’s room first, tiptoeing around as I emptied the contents of first his closet and then his dresser into one of the bags. His toys, I was sure, we could leave. At only two months old, he didn’t have many, but I made sure to grab his play mat, and his favorite stuffed animals from his crib where he slept.  
I moved on to my bedroom, grabbing every piece of clothing I could find. Most of my closet fit in the bag, but the rest, I’d either have to ditch or find another way of packing. Before long, I heard my front door creaking open. My breath caught in my throat, my mind racing through the awful scenarios that were undoubtedly about to come to life.  
“Y/N?” I heard Sam whisper from the hallway. I immediately relaxed as I peeked out of my doorway and looked towards him, where he still had his gun drawn. He lowered it as soon as he saw me, walking over to me and wrapping his free arm around my waist before kissing me quickly.  
“What’s going on?” he said, concern etched in his voice.  
“We have to leave. Me and Jimmy. It’s…complicated.”  
His face grew stern as his eyebrows became furrowed, sending a chill up my spine and bringing a smile to my face. “Uncomplicate it for me,” he demanded.  
“Fine, but you’re getting the cliff notes version for now,” he nodded in agreement. “I came home and talked things through with Hannah, attempting to just figure out what I wanted to do. We were trying to figure out what to do about my dad, when he came to the door, apparently remembering everything. The truth and the fantasy of the last ten months. He was completely shell shocked. Revealing….a lot. And in the end, Hannah had to wipe him again. He’s at his place sleeping now, but the memories he’s left with involve me and Jimmy not living here, him owning the bar alone, and basically necessitating a very quick and very unorganized move on my part. Tonight.”  
Sam looked down at the duffel bags on the floor. “Makes sense.”   
“Really?” I asked. “Because nothing seems to make sense to me at all right now.”   
He brought his hand up, brushing my cheek and leaning down to kiss me; soft and tender. “Does that make sense?” he asked as he broke the kiss, my eyes still shut. I grinned, “I’m beginning to see things clearer,” I teased as I attempted to wrap myself around him, kissing and nipping at his neck.  
“Nope,” he said, pushing me back towards my room. “We have a lot to get done and not much time to do it. And if you distract me right now, we won’t get anything done for at least a week.”   
I dropped my hands, knowing that he was right and turned back to my bedroom. “I have two suitcases that I can pack in and the two duffel bags are already full. You didn’t happen to bring a moving truck instead of the Impala, did you?”  
“Sorry,” he answered, as he pulled out his cell phone, dialing a number and holding it up to his ear.  
“Dean, hey,” he paused. “Yeah, I know what time it is. Thanks. Hey, you feel like hot wiring a Uhaul and meeting me over at Y/N’s bar?” He headed into the kitchen as he continued his conversation. I hauled the two suitcases that I had left out of my closet and threw them on top of my bed.   
Hannah stood in front of me, appearing out of nowhere. “I thought you’d left,” I practically shouted at her, taken aback by her presence.  
“You’re going back with the Winchester’s then,” she surmised.  
“Not much of a choice, really,” I answered, attempting to downplay my excitement and apprehension.  
“Do you need assistance?” she asked, her voice taking on an airier quality.  
“If you can. And if you want to. That would be great, Hannah.” She smiled sadly at me and brought her hand up to my shoulder.  
“Y/N, I need to know that this is what you want. That you’re going with them of your own volition. That it will make you happy.”  
“Yes, Hannah,” I rolled my eyes. “My very own fairy god-mother. Yes. I want to go. They’re…” I paused, attempting to find the words. Hannah raised her eyebrows, obviously waiting for me to finish my thought. “They’re my family,” I said, smiling brightly at her.   
Sam walked up behind me. “Do you have everything?” Hannah raised her eyes to meet his.  
“Sam,” she greeted him. “Hannah,” he answered tersely.   
I gave him a questioning glare, trying to figure out why he was being so cold towards her.   
“Yeah, I think I have most of what I need. Just the kitchen stuff and the heavy lifting to do.”  
“Dean and I will get it. You and Jimmy should head to the motel,” his voice was clipped, taking a bitter tone. I glanced at Hannah who seemed as confused as I was.   
“Sam, are you okay?” I asked him, worrying. He simply nodded in response. “I need to get Jimmy’s crib to the room first.”  
“I can take care of that,” Hannah offered. “If you’ll pick him up, I should be able to transport the crib where you need it intact. Where-”  
“The Cheshire Inn. Room 104,” Sam cut her off and answered her flippantly. Hannah began walking towards the nursery without saying much of anything.   
“Hey,” I placed my hand on Sam’s chest as his eyes followed Hannah’s retreating back. “What’s with the mood swing?”  
“Nothing. I just didn’t realize Hannah would be here.”   
“What’s wrong with her being here?” I asked, confused.  
He stared at me, unmoving. “Y/N, she removed me from your memories. She took you away from me. She’s the reason we missed out on the last ten months together.”  
“Please be kidding me with this,” I quipped, hoping he wasn’t being at all serious. His expression told me that he was.  
“We can talk about this later,” I removed my hand from his chest and began walking past him and towards Jimmy’s nursery. He reached his hand out, grabbing my arm lightly.  
“Y/N,” he pleaded.  
“We can talk about that later,” my stern mom-voice answered. He dropped his hand from my arm, his brows still furrowed and his expression unmoved. I walked into the nursery, reaching down into the crib and picking Jimmy up, cradling him to my chest. Hannah stood, her hands firmly grasping the ends of the crib as I watched her and it disappear.   
I went back to my bedroom, bouncing my step as I walked past Sam, holding his gaze as I did so.  
“Y/N, you can’t expect me to get along with the woman who took you both away from me,” he explained.  
“Come on, Sam,” I said, my voice deceptively calm as I tried to keep Jimmy peacefully asleep. “You have to realize that while Hannah may have helped and while yes, she did erase you from my mind, it was only my plan that she was following. My plan that I came up with all on my own. Trying to protect you.”  
He kept eye contact with me in silence, neither of us moving save for the way I swayed trying to keep our son asleep.   
“I need to be able to be mad at someone over this,” he admitted.  
“Mad? Why do you need to be mad?”  
“Because the alternative is to be heartbroken. And I’ve been that every second for almost a year.”  
I stared into his eyes, seeing the hurt and the ache that still was evident in them.  
“Oh Sam,” I cried, my voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.” He walked closer to me, pulling me into a hug as he carefully wrapped his arms around Jimmy and I, planting a kiss on the top of my head.  
“I know, honey. I know. It’s okay,” he said, calming me. “Let’s just go home.”  
I nodded into his chest, wanting nothing more than to be lying in bed with him, forgetting the awful truth and my heartbreaking decisions. He led me out into the hall, one hand caressing my back as the other held the front door open for me. We made our way downstairs and out the back door, just as a small truck pulled up with Dean in the driver’s seat.   
“Heya,” he shouted towards us, excitement radiating off of him. I gave him a smile in return as I walked with Jimmy over to my car.   
“Woah, hon. Shouldn’t we take the Impala back?” Sam said, catching up with me.  
“Car seat,” I said as a means of explanation.   
“Right,” Sam responded as he opened the back door and unbuckled the seat base. He grabbed the entire seat, closing the back door with his elbow once he had it out of the car. He walked over to the Impala, placing the seat on the roof as he opened the passenger side door, pulling the shotgun seat forward and setting the car seat in the back. Dean had gotten out of the truck and had walked over to me, starting at his little brother in awe along with me.  
Once Sam had placed the seat in the back, tightened the straps and made sure it was secure, he came back over to me, kissing my forehead as he took a hold of Jimmy in his strong, capable hands.   
“Sam Winchester, new, improved and baby friendly,” Dean mocked.  
“What? I read a book or two. So what?” Sam grew defensive as he walked with Jimmy back to the car, and placed him gently in his seat, leaning down and smelling the top of his head as he did so.  
I laughed at him, putting my hand up to cover my face. I stood just a few feet away from the Impala, Jimmy still in my sights. He stood up, glancing over at me with a devious smile. “And what are you laughing at?”  
“Nothing, nothing at all,” I answered.  
He narrowed his eyes at me as he walked over, leaving the passenger side door open. He wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me in place as he brought his lips crashing into mine. His fingers entwined themselves in my hair, eliciting a moan.  
“And that’s my cue to go upstairs and start bringing your stuff down. Don’t really need to see the floor show,” Dean said, jogging up the steps to the apartment entrance in back behind the bar.   
Sam broke away from me, walking over to the door of the Impala, making a show of holding it open, bowing. “Your carriage awaits.” I rolled my eyes at him as I walked over, sliding into the seat as if I had been doing so for years. Sam took his place in the driver’s seat, sliding his right hand behind my neck and looking into my eyes.  
“Sammy, you know you can’t hold this against Hannah, don’t you?”  
“Yeah, I know,” he admitted. “But for now, I’m going to go back to the motel, get a good night’s sleep, and head home with my family. Son and all.”

Part Sixteen  
Sam pulled into the parking lot just as my eyelids were beginning to droop. He put his hand against my cheek, rubbing it tenderly as I pushed my face into his palm, planting a kiss on it.  
I watched him turn around, glancing at the back of Jimmy’s car seat and smiling his wide toothy grin. He unclipped his seat belt and ran to the back door, opening it slowly as not to wake Jimmy. Sam unbuckled him, leaning forward as he lifted him up to his shoulder. I got out of the car, closing my door and the back door quietly after grabbing Jimmy’s diaper bag.  
Sam looked over at me as we reached the door to the room. “Keys,” he whispered, darting his eyes down towards his left hip pocket. I strolled over to him, doing my best to press myself against him, and leaned down to give Jimmy a peck on the forehead as I reached into Sam’s pocket to get the key. I unlocked the door, peering in to make sure the baby’s crib was there. It was there, pressed against the wall just next to the bed.  
I set the diaper bag down on the bed, grabbing the two full bottles from it and putting them in the mini fridge. I felt Sam’s strong arms wrap around me from behind. He leaned into me, pressing his nose into my hair and inhaling deeply. “You still smell the same,” he said, surprising me. I relaxed into his touch, my head resting back on his shoulder as I closed my eyes, relishing the sensation of his breath warm against my neck. He placed his hands at my sides, turning me around to face him as he bent back down to kiss me. It was soft at first, his lips tender and sweet. Slowly, the kiss deepened, both of us starving for each other as he wrapped his fingers around my thighs, lifting me up to sit on the counter above the fridge.  
His mouth was at my neck, nipping and sucking on my collarbone as his hands caressed my back, pulling me to him as he leaned into me, my legs straddling his hips. Our breathing was ragged and I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. “Oh, Sam,” I cried, my voice low and needy. His hands were under my shirt, reaching to my back and fiddling with my bra clasp.  
“I need you,” he breathed into my ear. Suddenly, my ears caught an all too familiar sound. Jimmy as just beginning to wake up, his hungry cry getting to my ears before Sam’s.  
“Sam,” I said, withdrawing and scooting off the counter. “Jimmy’s hungry.” He let me down, kissing my cheek as I walked by, smoothing my clothes and hair out. “Welcome to parenthood,” I chuckled over my shoulder, as I walked over towards the crib.  
“Wait, Y/N. Wait up. I can take care of it,” he insisted. I looked over at him as I picked Jimmy up, lifting my eyebrows questioningly. “Really, Sammy? You’re going to nurse him?”  
“Oh. Oh. Well then. Maybe not,” Sam said, looking at everything in the room but me as a blush crept up into his cheeks. I stifled a laugh, moving over to the lounge chair and getting Jimmy situated as he began to eat. Sam walked over to the bed, taking a seat and watching me as I rocked back and forth, Jimmy eating and soothing himself.   
Sam’s eyes quickly turned sad, his smile turning down and looking more and more melancholy by the second. “Hey,” I said, getting his attention. “What’s wrong?”   
He shook his head, his hair falling out from behind his ears. “Nothing. It’s just. I’ve missed everything. I didn’t get to take care of you while you were pregnant, get you pickles and ice cream in the middle of the night. I wasn’t holding your hand in the hospital delivery room. And now this. I don’t even know how to take care of him. And I want to. So badly.”  
“Sammy, you’ll get there. Don’t worry. And don’t get all self-loathing on me, now. I just scrambled my dad’s brain, remember? It’s you and me and him now, okay?” Sam dropped his head, his smile coming back to his face as he nodded.  
“You and me. And him. Sounds pretty good to me.”  
We headed back to the bunker the next morning. Jimmy, Sam and I piled into the Impala, the trunk and backseat stuffed full of our duffel bags, a diaper bag, and everything else that we’d need in the near future. Dean followed behind us in the moving truck. By the time we got home it was early afternoon. Sam and Dean started unloading the truck, tucking everything away into the miscellaneous empty rooms in the bunker.   
“Y/N?” Sam yelled, walking into our room with an arm full of my things. I laid Jimmy down in his crib, his eyes weary and sleep overtaking him quickly. “Hey, honey,” I said, walking over to him, wrapping my arms around his waist as he set down my stuff. “He asleep?” I nodded my head.   
“Where’s Dean?” I asked, my fingers wandering down to his belt buckle, unclipping it and slowly moving his zipper down. “Went to bed. He’s probably,” he paused as my hand grazed his groin and my fingers grasped his thick member, “asleep.by now,” he finished, stuttering.   
“How convenient? So is Jimmy,” I smiled wickedly at him as I leaned up, pressing my lips against his and pulling him towards me as I backed up into the bed. I turned him around slowly and pushed him into the side of the mattress, his knees bending as he sat down. I kneeled on the bed above him, my knees straddling him as I pushed his shirt over his shoulders and pulled his undershirt over his head. He lay back down, pulling me on top of him.  
Sam unbuttoned my jeans, pulled the zipper down and pushed them down off my hips, lifting me back up to my feet and pushing them to my feet along with my panties before pulling me back to him. He pushed my hair back, out of my face and behind my ears as he pulled my face back down to his, kissing me and pushing his tongue into my mouth, exploring and massaging my tongue with his own. I lowered myself down on him, releasing a satisfied sigh. Sam’s lips reclaimed my own. “Don’t you dare wake him up,” he threatened as I began moving against him rhythmically. I sat straight up, still straddling him, watching him clench his jaw with unreleased groans. I lifted his hands to my chest, encouragingly.   
“Sammy,” I whined, teetering on the edge. “Y/N,” he responded. “I love you,” he said as I reached my release followed closely by his own.  
We lay in bed, my face against his chest as we both breathed heavily. “Still think you’re not going to get a happy ending,” I asked.  
“Y/N, I’m putting up the picket fence in the morning.”


End file.
